


Stigmata Martyr

by Geonn



Series: Heroes of the Jade City [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate History, Bathtub Sex, F/F, First Time, Journalism, Newspapers, Romance, Seattle, Steampunk, Superheroes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-19
Updated: 2014-05-05
Packaged: 2018-01-19 22:38:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 40,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1486711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Geonn/pseuds/Geonn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>1909, Seattle. 20 years after the Great Fire changed Seattle's fortunes, a reporter discovers there's truth behind rumors of a masked vigilante.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The city of Seattle burned.

There were more details, of course. On June 6, 1889, a cabinetmaker overheated a pot of glue and started a small blaze. When the fire brigade arrived the area was already too smoky to determine the fire’s source. The dry weather combined with wooden architecture and saloons adding fuel to the flames created a conflagration that could not be controlled or contained. Hollowed-out logs that served as pipes for fire extinguishers also caught fire and prevented firefighters from doing their jobs. It soon became evident that the fire would not be stopped; it would continue until it had exhausted its hunger for destruction. In the end it claimed the entire business district, four wharves, and its railroad terminals. 

Some saw the fire as a living entity, a warning from the gods that the city would not be allowed to thrive. Others took the fire as a challenge.

The Queen City rebuilt from the ashes up, this time utilizing steel and glass. They made themselves fireproof while raising the streets ten meters above the ruins of what came before. Word spread of what the city was trying to do and people came from all over to help make the dream a reality. Investors saw an opportunity in the resurrection of such a potentially valuable piece of land; Seattle provided them with a convenient hub from which they could reach Alaska or East Asia. Money flowed to build up the docks, and dirigible hubs were added alongside the new harbor as the city rose like a gleaming sword behind them.

The men who had seen their chance to cast their lots in a new American metropolis soon realized they could have created something even bigger. Seattle was poised to become the new world’s London. The city finished growing upward and began to expand out, stretching along the coast like a great beast spreading its wings. Companies were drawn westward to the new hub of the world. At the great fin de siècle celebrations, the mayor officially dubbed their town “the Jade City,” referring equally to the beautiful scenery as well as the jade currently being imported from new partners in China.

Unfortunately with progress and prosperity also came crime. Smugglers, pirates, and run-of-the-mill brigands took up the place of rodents who had fled or burned to death in the great fire. In response the police force was bolstered in an attempt to maintain the balance between good and bad. Checkpoints were set up at routes in and out of Seattle but still the criminals still managed to find ways to skirt the law.

The city of Seattle was burning again, but this flame was harder to see and far more insidious. Its flames crept through back alleys and destroyed with subtle influence. More police were added despite budget constraints, which meant pay cuts, which meant that the criminals found it much easier to put the new officers on their payroll. In under two decades, Seattle had turned itself into a shining beacon on the sea, its light spreading up into the Canadian wilderness and out into the cold Pacific. Now evil men were trying to tarnish its glow.

If the city was going to survive, it needed someone who was above corruption and didn’t fear the wrath of the underworld. Seattle’s hero wouldn’t arrive behind a badge.

She appeared under a mask.

#

Aline Macrae Whyte put a hand on top of her cloche hat to prevent it from being caught on the latest draft off Puget Sound. She was standing near the docks, her satchel held tight against her side with her free hand. She had spent the afternoon at the Alaska-Yukon-Pacific Exhibition gathering notes for a feature story on some of the more unique attractions. The wireless telephone that could transmit up to two hundred feet away, the incubators keeping premature children alive, and an earpiece that could increase a person’s hearing tenfold. Mostly, though, she was interested in the human exhibits. Pacific Islanders and Alaskan Eskimos, set up with individual habitats so visitors could see how other cultures lived. She was absolutely certain the presentation was ridiculously naïve and colored by imperialist notions of what constituted savagery, but the caricatures proved insightful in their own way. 

She planned to organize her notes that evening and spend the night transforming them into an actual story. Her deadline for the morning’s paper was half past three in the morning; if she hand-delivered it rather than waiting for a messenger she could squeak in any time between the deadline and four. Her editor Eli had a soft spot for her and was willing to bend the hard-and-fast rules for her when necessary. The Expo was a big enough story that he would set aside part of the front page up until the very last moment.

Aline waited for a carriage to pass before crossing the street, already composing the story in her mind. She would begin with the technology to pull in readers, juxtaposing the promise of the future with the majesty of their surroundings. The Expo’s founders had found a magnificent place to host their wonders. The mountains were visible to the east, and airships could be seen buzzing to and fro above the Sound. Facing forward without forgetting where they had been. She would focus on that aspect before she segued into the human element. Nature and science, progress and nostalgia, those would be the hooks with which she could--

“Damnation.” She blinked at the brick wall blocking her way, the end of an alley that in her mind should have been Wallingford. If she was too far off course she would miss her streetcar and be forced to walk all the way home. Even if Eli granted her a short extension, she hated to abuse his kind nature. 

“Off in your head again, Ally,” she murmured at herself as she turned around. She could get so wrapped up in composing and choosing just the right words that the entire world faded out of view. It was problematic when she was making toast, downright dangerous when she was actually mobile.

Just before she stepped out onto the sidewalk, Aline was startled by a sudden sharp noise from behind her. She turned as the noise came again, jumping back a step as a door she hadn’t even noticed splintered outward. A few seconds earlier and she would have been pelted with tiny shards of broken wood. Her close call was almost instantly forgotten as the shattered door was followed by a stumbling person with both arms raised in a defensive posture. 

The tails of the woman’s overcoat swung around her legs like furled wings of an insect, and she kicked them back with one boot so her movement wouldn’t be impeded. Her trousers were dark blue, but that was where her standard fashion ended. Instead of a blouse her chest was covered with a rust-colored plate that was molded to reveal the flat of her stomach and the fullness of her bust. As the woman twisted to face the portal through which she had just crashed, Aline saw the glint of brass fixtures near the woman’s shoulders.

Without the shape of the woman’s body Aline would never have known her gender, for her entire head was encased in the wide-eyed visage of a gas mask. The filter was removed and replaced with a not-quite-sheer cloth to allow easier breathing and communication, but it did nothing to reveal the woman’s features. Aline had seen drawings of this outfit in their newspaper but until this moment she, like most Seattleites, assumed she was a myth.

“Carapace.”

The beetle-eyed mask turned toward the sound of its sobriquet, then quickly faced its threat once more. Two men came through the shattered doorway and spread out to either side of their quarry. Both men had bizarre contraptions strapped to their right arms, bulky metal shells that covered everything from their elbows to the very tip of their fingers. The man farther away from Aline was armed with a far more mundane weapon - a revolver - in his left hand.

“Our boss made you a very generous offer, bug-face,” one of the men said. “Even gave you the chance to reconsider.”

“Now you have to be taught a lesson.”

When Carapace spoke, her voice was muted and hollow. “Perhaps I’m not the one who should reconsider, gentlemen. I was vastly outnumbered inside with the rest of Mr. Stringer’s goons. Seven of you might pose a challenge, but two? I can handle two.”

She moved so swiftly that Aline nearly couldn’t follow the cause and effect. Later in the night, lying under her blankets and reliving the event, she thought she nailed down the choreography:

Carapace rocked back on her left leg and brought her right arm across her body. 

Her hand disappeared under her jacket and whipped back out as if hooked on a spring.

The object she threw hit the wall with a hollow sound, like a hammer striking stone. The men, distracted by the sound, turned away from Carapace to see what she had done.

The object sparked, and both devices the men wielded were enveloped in blue lightning. The man nearest to Aline cried out and dropped to his knees, turning his friend into the bigger threat. 

Carapace bent her knees and leapt straight up, rising almost three feet in the air before she brought her fist down on the man still standing. She struck him in the side of the head and he fell back against the wall. 

The other man, having shucked his malfunctioning weapon, got back to his feet in time to be kicked in the chest. Something on the heel of Carapace’s boot - most likely the same thing that had allowed her impressive standing leap, shoved her opponent straight back. Aline had to step out of the way as he flew out into the street and landed in a tangled bundle of limbs.

The entire kerfuffle lasted only a handful of seconds, a brief flash of limbs and flying goons. Aline’s breath was short and ragged, and she stared wide-eyed at the destruction all around her. Carapace waited a moment to make sure both assailants were down, then tugged on the lapels of her overcoat as she walked forward. Aline instinctively took a step backward from the imposing woman, but Carapace held up one gloved hand to indicate she meant no harm.

“Were you hurt?”

“I... n-no. No, I was back here the whole time.”

Carapace said, “There are more men inside. They’ll come to check on their friends soon enough. I suggest being elsewhere when that happens.”

Aline nodded. “Okay.” She backed up a step and Carapace turned back toward the door. “Wait!”

Carapace turned and fixed those inhuman glass eyes on her once more. Aline fumbled and then held out a card.

“Aline Macrae Whyte. I’m a rep-reporter for the Coast _Clarion_. People are talking about you. Right now, it’s just talk. Idle gossip. But eventually you might want your side of the story told. I-I’d like to be the one to tell it.”

For a long moment she thought the woman would simply turn away, ignoring the offer. But then she reached out and took the card between two fingers.

“Whyte,” Carapace said. “I’ll remember.”

Aline nodded her head.

“Go. Before their friends show up.”

“Right. Be careful.”

Carapace nodded once, then turned and ran back into the building. Aline watched and was highly tempted to hide so she could see what happened next. But if she was in the way, if she distracted Carapace with her presence... it would be best to remove herself from the situation. She turned and hurried away from the scene, stepping over the still-unconscious man Carapace had blown into the street. Her satchel, heavy with notes from the now all-but-forgotten Expo, bounced against her hip as she ran to catch the streetcar home.

The Expo story could be delayed until the late edition. She had something much more interesting for the front page slot.


	2. Chapter 2

Aline delivered her story at half-past two in the morning, running up the stairs with the sheaf of papers in her hand. The bullpen was dark save for a few green-shaded desk lamps that had been left on to push back the shadows. Eli had already gone home for the night but his secretary was there to get the ball rolling. S.O. Finn had been stationed in front of the editor’s office for as long as Aline worked there, a stalwart guardian between her boss and the plebian writing staff. She was broad-shouldered, firm-jawed, and kept her blonde hair tied neatly in a bun even in the middle of the night. 

Finn looked up as Aline hurried across the bullpen, and her icy exterior thawed. “You’re early. The deadline is still minutes away.”

“Oh, shoot. Well, I suppose I could wander around downstairs for a bit...”

Finn stood and held out her hand for the papers. “I suppose we can make it work. Mr. Callere has been looking forward to...” She frowned as she skimmed the neatly-typed rows. “This isn’t about the Expo at all. Carapace?”

Aline nodded. “She’s real, Finn. I saw her with my own eyes.”

“Hogwash.”

“Swear it.” She held up three fingers and crossed her chest with the other hand. “I have my notes on the Expo in my bag, and if you want I can sit down right now and punch out a story about it. But everyone is going to have a front page story about the Expo tomorrow. We can be just one out of a half-dozen, or we can stand out. We can have an eyewitness account of Carapace in action. Confirmation that she exists.”

Finn looked down at the story again. This time she read snippets rather than just skimming. “Eli is going to blow a gasket,” she muttered. 

“He left you in charge because he trusts your judgment.”

“Don’t try to butter me up, Whyte.” She sighed and shook her head. “If he gets upset, it’ll be your head on the chopping block.”

Aline nodded. “I understand.”

“A masked madwoman,” Finn said, shaking her head as she stepped around the corner of her desk. “World’s going completely off the rails.”

“It sure is,” Aline agreed. “I’m glad we have someone trying to correct the course.”

Finn pursed her lips, rolled her eyes, and carried the story off to be added to the morning edition. Aline watched her go before she crossed the records’ room. She turned on the light as she went inside and took a seat in front of a microfilm reader. She turned it on and did a search for “masked,” “mystery woman,” and “Carapace.” The machinery whirred as it sought out matching articles, and Aline settled back against her seat as she waited. She chewed on her thumbnail and thought about the encounter again. She was glad she had written it all down since it already seemed like something impossible. It was little wonder anyone who had seen Carapace quickly wrote it off to a misunderstanding or a trick of the eye.

The machine sorted references by date, and the earliest one meticulously centered itself on the screen. “MYSTERY WOMAN INTERRUPTS ILLICT EXCHANGE AT PIER!” A group of smugglers had been off-loading their boats when a masked woman appeared on the boardwalk. According to the statement given by the men who had been left behind for the police, the woman came onboard despite being told to move along. She engaged in conversation with the ship’s captain. There was no record of what was said but the conversation ended with the captain being thrown into the water.

The smugglers moved to grab her but she blinded them with a handful of sparklers. Several men were certain their bullets had hit her point-blank, but she never even slowed down. One man had a broken jaw, while others suffered broken fingers from having their weapons torn away from them. When they had all been subdued the woman bound them to the railing and sent up a flare. When harbor security came to investigate they found the smugglers wrapped up in a tidy package to be hauled off to jail.

It was another four weeks before the woman was sighted again, and no connection was drawn between her second appearance - drawing police to an illegal gambling operation - and the events at the pier. Those taken into custody gave a better description than the smugglers, and they mentioned that she wore a bug-eyed mask and a protective metal shield on her chest. The reporter was the first to refer to it as a “carapace.”

When she was spotted again just four days later, the headline read “CARAPACE-CLAD VIGILANTE STRIKES AGAIN!” The police denied all the stories as lurid sensationalism invented to sell papers. The sightings continued and still the commissioner claimed it was nothing but fiction.

“If such a woman existed, I would be incredibly grateful for her help. The fact is it’s nothing but wishful thinking and flights of fancy. The idea that one woman in a metal breastplate could do the work of my entire force, and do it better, would be insulting if it weren’t so laughable.”

Aline sighed and scrolled through other stories. No photographs existed of Carapace. The stories were accompanied either by aftermath shots of where she’d been spotted or crude drawings done by people who claimed to have seen her. The likenesses ranged from close to extremely off the mark, now that Aline knew exactly what Carapace looked like. She wished she had been able to remember details in the moment, but everything was a blur of movement and violence.

“Aline?”

“I’m in here, S.O.”

Finn crossed the office and leaned into the microfilm room. “What are you doing in here?”

“Looking up past articles on Carapace.”

“Well, in three days there will be a new one. They looked at me like I was pranking them, but I insisted it was real. It’ll run in tomorrow’s paper.”

Aline sighed. “I guess I’ve done my duty.” She stood up and patted her bag. “Tell Eli that if he wants an Expo story, I can have it for him tomorrow evening for the next issue.”

Finn said, “It’s precious you think you’ll still be working here after that hideously yellow journalism you handed off to me just now.”

“Darlin’, someone has to be here to remind you that you aren’t the be-all and end-all.”

“Another fish story. Keep it up, Whyte. Keep it up.”

Aline closed the door of the microfilm room and Finn locked it. “You can go home now, right? Now that you’re not waiting for me?” She checked her watch. “We can wait for the streetcar together if we’re going the same way.”

“That’s sweet, thanks. I think I’ll take you up on that if you don’t mind waiting for me to shut this place down.”

Aline helped by turning off all the lamps, then followed Finn downstairs and outside. There were only a handful of streetcars running in the middle of the night, and only one of them went far enough south to get Aline home. They linked arms and walked to the nearest stop, positioning themselves close enough to the road so they could be seen but not so prominent that a criminal might consider them easy pickings. 

Finn, the monolithic gatekeeper that struck fear in the hearts of everyone who had to cross her to see their boss, tightened her grip on Aline’s arm. 

“It’s okay.” Aline patted her hand softly.

“Oh, stuff it,” Finn said. “It’s just unsettling. That’s all.”

Aline just nodded.

After a few minutes Finn spoke again, her voice softer this time. “Do you really believe there’s someone out there, someone... lookin’ out for people?”

“I do.”

Finn considered that for a long time before she nodded. “Okay. Okay then.”

Aline smiled and patted her friend’s hand again, and they fell silent as they waited for the car to come for them.

#

The next day Aline slept until nearly noon, then remained in bed with the blankets kicked down around her feet as she tried to overcome the sweltering of the apartment to begin her day. She had dressed as minimally as possible and still her torso was slick and shining with sweat when she finally sat up and put her feet on the floor. She fanned herself and went to the window, grunting as she pushed it up to create a breeze. She stood with her hands on the frame for a moment and closed her eyes as the wind pushed past her, lifting her hair to give the sweat on her neck a chance to dry before she turned away.

She put a robe over her underclothes despite the heat and went to the door. The _Clarion_ was waiting on her mat and she stooped to pick it up.

EXCLUSIVE! CARAPACE DOES EXIST!

She pushed the door shut and took the paper into the kitchen. She sliced a banana, the only food she felt hungry for, and read the article. She was only partway through it when there was a knock at the door. She sighed and gathered her robe around her again.

“Who is there, please?”

“It’s Ginny, ma’am.” Her landlady’s daughter. “Someone’s been calling for you every hour, but I know how late you sleep, so I hope--”

She opened the door and smiled. “I’m up. Thank you for not waking me earlier. Do you know who it is?”

Ginny was a slip of a girl, barely taller than Aline’s shoulder. When she saw Aline was in her robe she ducked her head shyly. “A gentleman. Mama wouldn’t like men telephoning a single lady like this, but I think it’s about your work.”

“Probably the case.” Aline followed Ginny down the hall to the nook where the telephone was set. Ginny continued downstairs and Aline took a seat next to the little table before lifting the horn to her ear and leaning close to the speaker. “This is Aline Whyte.”

“Just what in the blue blazes did you think you were doing with this?”

Aline parted her lips, the same argument she’d used on Finn on the tip of her tongue, but all she managed to get out was, “I--”

“We’re lucky they’re not stacking us with the tabloid dreck. I wish I had been there to stop this from happening. Makes me look crazy as a bedbug that this got through...”

“We’ve printed stories about Carapace before.”

Eli said, “Yes, we have! But never on the front page! Never when every other paper in the city is printing the story every reader in the city wants to read. I give you a lot of rope, Aline. But this time you may have gone too far. You took advantage of S.O. and the fact she likes you more than some of the other people in this place. I’m not going to let this happen again. From now on, your stories don’t go to print until I’ve okayed them.”

“Eli!” She was irritated, but she couldn’t quite call it unfair. His preferential treatment of her was the actual unfair part, and she couldn’t really argue for being treated like everyone else. She smoothed her free hand over her thigh. “I’m sorry, Eli. I thought we would stand out among all the other newspapers covering the same story. We’d have something different. I guess I wasn’t thinking.”

“You definitely weren’t. This was a hell of a screw-up, kid. I expected better from you.”

Aline startled herself by tearing up. The disappointment in his voice was worse than his anger had been. “I’m sorry, Eli. I guess I was just over-hot from the Expo a-and I hadn’t been to bed. I won’t screw up again, honest.”

“See that you don’t. I want the Expo story as soon as humanly possible, understand? I won’t have the only paper in town not talking about it. I won’t have the Olmsteds thinking we’re feuding with them over some nonsense like this Carapace thing.”

“I understand.”

“I’ll see you later this afternoon with the Expo story.”

“Right. Yes. I’ll get on it right now.”

She disconnected the call, dabbed at her eyes with the sleeve of her robe, and hurried back to her room. She wanted to get the story done without delay. She didn’t know what she had been thinking. A front page story about Carapace... she might as well have submitted a gossip column. She shook her head and chided herself under her breath as she returned to her room and shut the door, shucking her robe and hurling it as angrily as she could muster at the couch. 

“Idiot!” she growled. 

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

Aline squealed and jumped away from the voice, one hand going to her chest as she spun around to see who had spoken. In retrospect the hollow and machined voice should have told her everything she needed to know. Carapace, in full uniform, was standing in her kitchen. 

“You really shouldn’t have written that article, Miss Whyte.”

Aline swallowed the lump in her throat and forced the words out. “That certainly seems to be the popular opinion.”

Carapace seemed to look down, or at least her head shifted slightly in that direction, and Aline suddenly realized she was dressed only in her skimpy combinations. She corssed her arms over her chest and felt a flush rise in her cheeks.

“Get dressed. We should have a conversation.”


	3. Chapter 3

“You left your window open.”

Aline nodded even though Carapace couldn’t see the motion. Her one-room apartment didn’t offer much opportunity for privacy so she had ducked behind a screen to change into her dress. Carapace had remained on the other side of the apartment, though having seen her in action, the extra distance didn’t put Aline’s mind at ease.

“I opened it because it was hot,” Aline said. “It wasn’t meant to be an invitation.”

“I apologize. If the matter wasn’t so urgent I would have been a bit more polite.”

Aline peeked over the top of the screen. Carapace was facing away from her, giving Aline a chance to examine the back of her trenchcoat. There was a design in the leather, spreading across the small of her back in an elaborate curlicue pattern. Examining the details of her costume also helped ground the fact Carapace was standing in her home, real as life. She finished with the buttons of her dress, smoothed down the material, and stepped back out.

Carapace glanced over her shoulder, saw that Aline was decent, and faced her fully. “Do you know Mordecai Stringer?”

“I know of him. Everyone’s heard the name. He gets cuts from the police and the pirates and half the smugglers who come in from Japan.”

“He’s coming after you.”

Aline laughed out loud. “That’s poppycock. Why would he even care about me? How would he even know who I am?”

Carapace picked up the newspaper Aline had left on the counter. “You wrote this. It’s one of the most accurate and detailed descriptions of me since I first started making a nuisance of myself. Everyone is talking about it. Stringer got word of it. He thinks only someone close to me would have gotten such a good look at me. He’s coming after you hoping he can convince you to spill what you know.”

“But I don’t know anything.”

“He won’t care. He’ll offer you money, he’ll offer to set you up for life in one of the swank condos downtown, and when that doesn’t work he’ll begin with negative reinforcement.”

Aline crossed her arms protectively over her chest. “I don’t think I like the sound of that.”

“No. He won’t believe you’re ignorant, or that you just happened to be in the right place at the right time yesterday. He’ll do whatever it takes to get the information he’s sure you have.”

“If you came here to scare me, you’re doing a boffo job.”

“I came here to warn you so that you won’t be caught off-guard when the moment comes. I also came here to give you leverage.” She reached into her coat and took out a much-folded piece of paper. “This is a name and an address downtown. Don’t give either of them up too quickly, but don’t let them hurt you.”

“I... look, you’re real. You’re out there doing things the police won’t do. I don’t want to get hurt, but I’m not going to sacrifice you to save myself.”

The lips behind the lower part of the mask moved slightly, and Carapace chuckled softly. “No, I don’t intend to make myself a martyr. I’ll be waiting for them at that location. When they show up I’ll have a little surprise for them.”

“Oh.”

“But I appreciate the offer of sacrificing yourself. It was noble. Not a lot of nobility left these days.”

“This coming from a real-life knight.”

Carapace shook her head. “I’m no knight. I’m just a woman who got fed up. I only wear the mask and armor and use the toys because I’m terrified of getting hurt. On that subject...” She took out a small pouch and stepped forward to offer it. “These are light-ups. Just in case Stringer leaves someone to watch you while he checks out my trap, this will help you get away. Pinch one between your thumb and forefinger until you hear the casing break, then throw it away from you. The wall or the floor works. It’ll flash and pop. Should be enough of a startle for you to get away.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ll leave you now. Be on your guard. I don’t know how long it will take them to find you.”

Aline tilted her head curiously. “How did _you_ find me?”

“You gave me your card, so I was looking for Aline Macrae Whyte,” Carapace said. “You publish under A.M. Whyte so Mr. Stringer has to go through quite a few others in the phone book until he finds the right one. There’s a chance he might also see your name and discount you simply because you’re a woman. I couldn’t take the chance and leave you unprotected.”

“Why?”

Carapace paused by the window, one hand resting on the sill. “What do you mean why?”

“You don’t know me. I mean, I assume you don’t know me. You go out of your way to warn me these guys are trying to find me. Heck, you’re putting yourself in danger because you keep sticking your nose into dangerous business. Don’t misunderstand. I’m grateful. The whole city is grateful someone like you is out there. But why?”

Carapace looked down at her boots. “Twenty years ago this city was ashes. It was like a pit from Hell opened up and tried to swallow it whole. Seattle could have been wiped off the map. The only reason it wasn’t is because of the people. Not the government or the institutions, the regular people. The same ones who are being victimized by Stringer and those of his ilk. I had the means to fight back. Standing aside would be as the same as being complicit with their actions.”

“Those people need to know you’re out there. We’re scared, Carapace. We’re so scared we’re clinging to even the tiniest bit of fluff. Last night I walked a woman to the streetcar and she was so scared to be out at night that she nearly bruised my arm from holding it so tight. I understand why you’re flying under the radar, but please. Consider the alternative. Everyone knows about Stringer and the pirates. Everyone knows about the thieves and the rapists and the killers. It’s only fair we should also know about the woman risking her life to stop them.”

“And I suppose you would want to be the one to write about me.”

Aline shook her head. “No, I wasn’t suggesting that at all.”

“It’s okay. I wasn’t being judgmental. I already know you, and you’ve already written about me once. I couldn’t risk someone else’s safety by opening up to them instead. I’ll consider what you said and I’ll be in touch if I decide you’re right.”

“That’s all I ask.”

Carapace stepped out onto the fire escape and began climbing. Aline went to the window and watched as Carapace moved high enough that she was level with the rooftop of the neighboring building. She crouched and leapt, her boots emitting a quiet puff of steam as something built into the soles helped her cross the distance. Her coat billowed out behind her and then collapsed around her when she landed.

“Hell,” Aline said softly, eyes wide as she retreated from the glass. She fanned herself as she walked back into the apartment to finish dressing for the day. She still had the Expo story to write if she wanted to remain employed at the newspaper.

#

The finished story wasn’t her best work, but it would do in a pinch. Aline stacked the pages in an envelope and decided to hand-deliver it so she could apologize to Eli in person. She hoped he was in a better mood now that he’d gotten all the yelling out of his system; she didn’t want to speculate on how he would react when she mentioned the possibility of another Carapace story. There could even be an interview. And it wouldn’t have to be on the front page. He could bury it in the back next to the funnies. Maybe that would be enough to give her a second chance.

She stepped into the bullpen and thought she’d interrupted a birthday party in progress. She even backed up a step to retreat back into the stairwell before she was spotted, but a copyeditor named Stephen called out her name. He started to applaud and soon those around him did the same. Aline stared and hugged her satchel to her chest as she waited for an explanation. Everyone was standing at their desks as if for an announcement, and every face turned toward her as the applause rose.

“What’s happening?”

Eli appeared as soon as she spoke, and she sputtered in search of an apology. She wanted him to know that she was as confused about the applause as anyone. But he surprised her by grinning and clapping his hands as loudly as anyone. He was a few inches shorter than her and seemed twice as wide, a former boxer who seemed to be melting into the ground as he aged. His small eyes were sunk into deep sockets, and they widened in a silent plea to follow his lead as he approached her.

“There she is, there’s our star!”

Aline blinked. “Pardon?”

He put his arm around her and leaned in as if for a hug. “Our conversation on the phone never happened. Right?”

“O-okay.”

He patted her back and grinned at the crowd of her colleagues. “Now hush up. Quiet! I’m going to go have a discussion with our star reporter. You all get back to work and try to write something worthy of following her exclusive, all right?”

Aline allowed herself to be led through the group, stunned and utterly confused. Finn was at her usual station in front of his door and she glanced up, one blonde eyebrow arched. But just before she looked back down Aline thought she saw twin dimples of a smile playing on her cheeks. Eli opened the office door, ushered her inside, and shut the door behind her.

“You’re goddamn lucky, you know that?”

“I’m getting that impression,” Aline said, “but I can’t say that I understand why.”

Eli sat behind his desk with a groan and leaned back in his seat. “That ridiculous story you wrote is moving newspapers. We’re getting refill orders left and right from all over the city. Apparently all the other papers doing Expo coverage have canceled each other out. We’re the only ones with a story about Carapace. People are buying it up faster than we can deliver replacement copies. We may have to reprint the story tomorrow just to keep up with demand.”

Aline smiled, utterly relieved. “That’s fantastic news, sir.”

“You’re damned lucky. But now you have a bigger problem. You have to follow that up. You got a story on the Expo?”

“Ah, y-yes.” She patted her bag.

“Toss it. Yesterday’s news, hardly worth lining a birdcage with it now. You’re going to have to follow up with something else about Carapace. Think you’re up to that?”

Aline smiled. “Yes, sir. I think it’s possible.” Even if she couldn’t get in touch with the mystery woman again, she could track down people who had sighted her in the past and collect their stories. She could have a second story in a week or so. “Thank you, Mr. Callere. I know how easily this could have gone a different way.”

“You’re damn right. Now get out of here.”

“Do you want the Expo story?”

“What did I just say? No. You’re on the Carapace beat from now until it stops selling papers.”

Aline nodded and stood up. “Thank you, Eli.”

He sighed. “To be honest? I’m glad. I really hated yelling at you. This’ll teach me to wait and see before I make an ass of myself, huh?”

“To be honest, I thought you were absolutely justified. Didn’t make it any easier to hear, but I was coming in here to beg mercy.”

He acknowledged that with a dip of his chin and waved her out. Aline left and shut the office door quietly behind her, slipped up behind Finn’s desk, and gripped her shoulders. She bent down to whisper in her ear.

“You and me are getting dinner tonight.”

Finn said, “What’s the occasion?”

“Like you don’t know.” She pecked Finn’s temple, squeezed her shoulders, and stepped out from behind the desk. “We have a lot to talk about. I’ll be back to pick you up at six.”

“Okay.”

Aline smiled at her and then hurried to the stairs. She had no way to get in touch with Carapace, but she had little doubt that their morning meeting would be their last. It was hard for her to believe she was now the darling of the Coast _Clarion_ when she had jumped through so many hoops just to get the job in the first place. For months she ran around Seattle and wrote stories about current events or just human interest stories she happened across. Then she typed out the stories and sent them to the _Clarion_ under the A.M. Whyte byline with a short, sloppy contract declaring that she was giving the story to the paper for free.

For the first few weeks her stories only appeared in the letters section, but soon they became so popular that Eli wanted to be sure people knew how to find the Whyte column. Her first front page story detailed a dirigible crash in front of King Street Station. She sent the pages via courier, and that was also the first time the courier came back after his delivery.

“The editor said that if you come in, he’ll pay you a steady salary of one-hundred fifty a year.”

Aline had been overjoyed by the offer. The next morning she put on her best blouse and matching skirt, put on her fanciest hat, wiggled her fingers into gloves and wedged her feet into shoes that pinched her toes. She went to the offices of the Coast _Clarion_ , marched up to S.O. Finn’s desk, and asked to see Mr. Callere. 

“Do you have an appointment?”

“No, but he’ll want to see me. My name is A.M. Whyte.”

Finn had lifted her head at that, her eyes widening. Her lips pursed as if she had just tasted something sour, and she carefully pushed her chair back.

“Let me see if he’s available.”

Finn went into the office. Aline stood in front of the now-empty desk, her hands clutching her purse in front of her, and she refused to look around at the rest of the bullpen. She knew people were staring at her but she didn’t care. She kept her eyes forward and her shoulders square. Finally Finn came back and took her seat without a word. Eli followed her out and stared at his guest.

“You’re A.M. Whyte?”

“Yes, sir.”

He stared at her again, eyes running up and down her body as if a second look could make the curves say something else. Finally he accepted the reality and his shoulders sagged.

“Well, I can’t pay you what I said in the message.”

“Of course not. One must leave room for raises and promotions.”

Finn pressed one fine finger to her lips to keep from making an outburst; years later Aline would decide that was the moment when the detached S.O. Finn decided the plucky young reporter was worth her time and friendship. It was also probably the moment Eli decided she was going to be the source of many headaches for him.

She stepped outside into the sun, no longer minding the heat as much as she had that morning. Now it felt refreshing, like a caress. She tilted her head back and squinted at the sky, hoping she might catch a glimpse of Carapace flitting from one roof to the next. The sky was clear save for dirigibles, but Aline was undeterred. She knew she would see the heroine again. It was just a matter of time.


	4. Chapter 4

There was a club not far from Aline’s home, one of several in the city, but Aline preferred the usual clientele of this club in particular. Two weeks after the first Carapace story ran, Aline spent a few hours nursing a drink at the bar. She went home with a lovely young redheaded girl and spent a few more hours counting her freckles. There were so many, and the room was so dark, that she frequently lost count and had to start over. Neither woman minded very much.

Afterward, with her conquest cuddled up against her side, Aline was awoken by the sound of breaking glass in the alley. Her arm tightened around the girl’s shoulders as she lifted her head to look toward the window. She hadn’t forgotten Carapace’s warning, although it had lost some of its terror as the days marched on without incident. But then she would become convinced someone was following her, or a dog began barking in the middle of the night, and the fear would crop back up.

The girl, Laura, lifted her head. Her lips had left a wet mark on Aline’s shoulder and she brushed it clean with her thumb before speaking. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Hm? Nothing. Go back to sleep, pretty.”

“Your heart is racing.” She rested her hand on Aline’s chest. “You in trouble?”

Aline smiled. “No, of course not.” She kissed the cute button nose and then kissed the girl between her eyebrows. “I just startle easily. And there’s a bit of crime in the neighborhood.”

“Oh...?”

“Nothing to be concerned about.”

Laura sat up and let the blanket slide down her curves. “Is there a lot of crime?”

“Not a lot.” Aline reached up and stroked her hand down Laura’s hip. “I won’t be upset if you want to go home. It’s late, but I can call for a carriage. It’ll pick you up right outside the door.”

“Are you sure?”

Aline sat up and smiled. “We didn’t meet in a relationship club. We were both after a night, and that’s what we got. And a hell of a good one at that.”

Laura smiled and ducked her chin. “It was pretty good, yeah. Really pretty good.”

“Then I’m not angry you want to sleep in your own bed.” She touched Laura’s chin with two fingers and pushed it up so she could kiss her lips. “I hope if I see you there again, we can--”

“Oh, uh-huh. Yeah.” She chuckled nervously at her own eagerness. “I’d like that.”

“Good. Why don’t you get dressed and I’ll go call for your ride.”

They got out of bed and Aline wrapped herself in a robe, cinching it tightly and making sure Laura was out of sight before she opened the bedroom door. She knew of two carriage companies that would pick up single women this late at night to ensure they got home safely, but only one employed former police officers. She called the switchboard and asked to be connected. As she waited the landlady’s daughter appeared at the top of the stairs. She was dressed in pajamas and paused on one step as if debating whether to continue down, then joined Aline in the phone nook as the line came alive.

“Shepherd Cabriolet. What’s the address, please?”

Aline gave the house number and a quick description of the woman they would be picking up. He estimated their arrival at thirty-five minutes and she thanked him before ending the call.

Ginny smiled shyly. “Evening.”

“Hello, Ginny. I apologize for using the phone without asking.”

“It’s fine. You, um. You have a guest?”

Aline nodded. “That’s right. A friend of mine I lost track of a long time ago. We had dinner together and then just lost track of time.”

Ginny looked down at her bare feet, crossed at the ankles. “I heard you come in, Miss Whyte. It was so late I thought maybe something was the matter, so I came down to see if you needed anything. I-I heard you. The two of you.” Her cheeks were burning red and she still refused to meet Aline’s eye.

“Oh. Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be sorry. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have... well. Mom’s always telling me to respect our boarders’ privacy. I shouldn’t have listened.”

Aline started to let her off the hook, but the girl was old enough for a bit of harmless flirtation. She smiled and lowered her voice. “You seem awful sorry for someone who just heard something and then skipped away. How long exactly did you listen?”

“Not long, ma’am. I swear.”

“But long enough to hear something you liked?”

Ginny smiled and ducked her head further, her hair falling down along her cheek to veil her face. 

Aline said, “Don’t worry, Ginny. I won’t get you in trouble with your mother. I don’t mind.” 

“Thank you. And I’m sorry again.”

Aline waved her off. “And for Pete’s sake. Please call me Aline.”

“Okay. I just... wanted to say I was sorry. So.”

“I’ll be sure to pay your mother for the phone call.”

Ginny nodded. “Oh. Right. Yes. Thank you.”

“Goodnight, Ginny.”

The girl fled, and Aline chuckled quietly as she went back to her room. Laura was seated on the edge of the bed, lacing up her boots. 

“Who were you talking with?”

“Landlady’s daughter.” Aline took off her robe and draped it over the chair. “Your car is on the way. Should be about half an hour.”

Laura finished with her boots and sat up, her hands flat beside her on the mattress. “Long wait. What shall we do to pass the time?”

Aline sank to her knees in front of Laura, placed a hand on either knee, and pushed Laura’s legs apart. “Thirty minutes, well. I’d say we have just enough time for a good-night kiss.” She grinned, pushed up Laura’s dress, and bent down between her thighs.

#

Aline was starting to gain a name for herself as the go-to source for Carapace scoops. She followed up her exclusive with a full page of interviews with people who had spotted the heroine, collecting them all in a single place for the first time. That edition sold out within the first few minutes of hitting newsstands and forced Eli to send them into a third and fourth printing. Her third article was printed on a Wednesday, with a note that all future Carapace content - “save for exclusive and late-breaking news!” - would be published on the same day. 

Either by happenstance or in response to Aline’s comments and her stories, Carapace began appearing more frequently. A police foot chase ended when Carapace appeared in the criminal’s path and ensnared his legs with something the officers called a “tangler.” The thief went down hard, giving the police a chance to catch up and take him into custody. By the time one of the officers thought to look for Carapace she was already long gone.

The police issued a statement which finally admitted Carapace existed but they did not condone her activities. They declared police work was best left to the professionals and it was only a matter of time before she went too far and got herself hurt or killed. The commissioner declared that if she continued inserting herself into their business she would be considered a criminal nuisance and treated accordingly. 

Aline covered the story for the _Clarion_ and had to focus very hard to keep her own bias out of the reporting. She knew the police had a point, but she also knew they hated Carapace because she was interfering with their bribery and grifting. Without knowing when and where she would show up they found it increasingly difficult to meet up with their underworld contacts. Witnesses began to tell Aline that the police were just as likely to shoot at Carapace as they were at the criminals she was apprehending.

So far the only time Aline had spoken directly to Carapace was when she had appeared in her apartment. She had almost forgotten about the address she was supposed to give if Mordecai Stringer or his men showed up to harass her. She had all but forgotten the threat itself until she spotted the car parked outside the newspaper office on her way to drop off the latest Carapace article. She usually delivered them Tuesday night just before five so Eli could look over it before sending it to press. She eyed the car and tried to give it a wide berth without seeming to, but the driver was much too keen for her to get past.

The woman was dressed in a man’s suit, her hair tucked up under a driving cap and her eyes hidden behind goggles. She stepped around the front of the car and held up one hand to stop Aline from walking past her.

“A.M. Whyte?”

“Um. I-I’m... yes? Who are you?”

The woman said, “No one you need to concern yourself with. My employer would like to have a word with you.” She gestured at the back door of the car and put a hand on Aline’s elbow to indicate she didn’t really have a choice in the matter. Aline felt her knees quaking as she bent them to duck into the vehicle. Her hands were trembling as well, her fingers tight on the strap of her satchel. Her stomach threatened to leap up into her throat as the driver shut the door behind her.

The man sitting beside her took up most of the seat but no one would have described him as fat. He was tall enough that the top of his bald head brushed the ceiling and his legs were bent to fit into the confined space of the vehicle. He made her feel positively Lilliputian by comparison, and she folded her hands in her lap and waited for him to break the silence.

“Aline Macrae Whyte,” he said. “A.M. Whyte. I never would have thought a woman would be employed as a writer for a publication as prominent as this. That was my mistake. We could have met weeks ago if I hadn’t dismissed you out of hand.” He looked at her and smiled. “Do you know who I am, Miss Whyte?”

She worked up moisture in her mouth before she spoke. “You’re Mordecai Stringer.”

“That’s correct. And I assume you know why I want to speak with you.”

Aline tucked her bottom lip into her mouth. It was a nervous habit she’d abandoned in childhood, but being dwarfed by Stringer made her feel like she was back in knee socks.

Stringer reached into his jacket and withdrew an envelope. He dropped it on her lap and she recoiled as if it had been a snake.

“No need for theatrics. It’s just a payment.”

“A... what?”

“I typical reward people who bring me information. You’ve been giving me information for weeks now and I feel as if that deserves recompense.”

She picked up the envelope and held it out to him. “You pay the penny like everyone else. That’s the cost for what you get.”

Stringer smiled and took the envelope from her. He nodded as he returned it to his pocket. “Integrity. I’m impressed, Miss Whyte. Perhaps there’s another way you could earn my gratitude. If, say, you were to offer information that wasn’t readily available in your paper. I would be required to pay for that, wouldn’t I?”

“I suppose.” She looked out the window and saw the driver’s back. She was blocking the door so even if Aline found the strength to make a break for it she wouldn’t get very far.

“Don’t worry about Sabine. If you want to leave, she’s been instructed to let you go. This is just a friendly conversation.”

“You grabbed me off the street.”

“I didn’t have much choice. I can’t be seen talking to a reporter, even if most people wouldn’t recognize you as such. I would prefer if this meeting was just between us regardless of the outcome. Despite how it may appear I don’t enjoy reading about myself in the newspaper.”

Aline swallowed the lump in her throat. “So what is this about?”

“You know what it’s about.” He looked at her and she found it difficult to look away from him. “I want to know about Carapace.”

“I... I don’t know anything that isn’t in the newspaper. I’m not holding anything back. It’s hard enough to fill out a whole block once a week with what I have.”

Stringer smiled. “Yes, but this niche you’ve carved out for yourself... it’s quite an amazing accomplishment. Every reporter in this city would have killed to be on the Carapace beat. You managed to get it despite your... obvious shortcomings.”

Aline furrowed her brow. “I don’t consider them such, sir.”

“Easy, easy. I meant nothing disparaging. I only meant to imply that of all the reporters of all the papers in town, why choose the woman from a third-rate rag?”

“No offense meant?” Aline said curtly.

Stringer smiled. “I’m just trying to understand why Carapace wouldn’t go to the _Post-Intelligencer_ or the _Times_. They already had a wide readership. They had prestige. It seems like the obvious choice.”

“Then it obviously wasn’t a choice.” Aline spoke without thinking, but she decided it was the best tack. “The first article was the truth, Mr. Stringer. I don’t print anything else. I happened across Carapace in that alley. I wrote the article. It sold enough newspapers my editor insisted we keep it up so we could compete with those papers you mentioned. There’s no conspiracy.”

“We’ll see, I suppose. You’re sure you won’t take the payment? If it would make you feel better we could call it a retainer for future services.”

“No, thank you. I haven’t earned it, and I don’t anticipate earning it any time in the future.” She forced her fingers to relax on her satchel’s leather. “May I please leave?”

He looked at her in surprise. “Were you under the impression you were being held prisoner? Heavens no, Miss Whyte. I know you have a deadline. I’m sorry to keep you from it.”

She opened the door and he grabbed her wrist. She only barely managed to keep from crying out.

“We’ll speak again, Miss Whyte. And I think we could be very helpful to one another. Your employer may look past your gender but I doubt he would be as forgiving if he knew about your proclivities.”

Aline’s face burned and she felt tears burning in her eyes. “What--”

“Don’t make me be clearer, Aline. Anyone could hear if I said it out loud.”

“I...” She swallowed and nodded. “I understand.”

He smiled. “Excellent. I look forward to seeing you again.”

Aline got out of the car and resisted the urge to shudder. She did take a deep breath of fresh air to ground herself. The driver, Sabine, lurked by her side. When Aline felt centered again she looked at the other woman to show she wasn’t intimidated.

“I would take whatever advice he offered you, Miss Whyte,” Sabine said. “He can be very persuasive when he needs to be. And when that fails, he has other methods of bending people to his will.”

Sabine’s tone was more warning than threat, which stopped Aline from using an angrier response. Instead she tugged her satchel strap higher on her shoulder and held her chin up defiantly.

“I won’t be intimidated. I write what I know, and beyond that I can’t help him. I’m not holding anything back.”

“I hope not. He may have seemed friendly just now, but trust me. He’s a monster.”

Aline furrowed her brow. “Then why work for him?”

Sabine smiled sadly, touched two fingers to the brim of her cap, and turned on her heel. She didn’t say another word as she slid behind the wheel and churned the engine to life. Aline waited on the side of the street, staring at the vehicle as it pulled away from the curb. She remained there until it was finally out of sight, just to be certain Stringer didn’t get out and come after her.

The encounter left her utterly shaken. She went into the _Clarion_ building and had her story sent upstairs. She didn’t have the wherewithal to face Eli or Finn at that moment. She just wanted to go home and hide under her blanket in the corner until she felt safe again. She took the streetcar home without meeting anyone’s eye, her heart still pounding more than half an hour after she got out of Stringer’s car. She wished there was a way to contact Carapace, to let her know Stringer had finally made contact. But maybe that was too dangerous. Now she feared he might have people watching her. If he knew about the club and the women, what else might he know?

Aline was so distracted by her fears that it took her a second to recognize the state of her apartment. She immediately stepped back over the threshold, mouth agape and eyes wide as she looked at the destruction. Papers were strewn about, books piled next to the bed, and her clothes scattered on every available surface. She entered the apartment again and looked at the window. It was standing wide open, with the wood where the latch had been turned broken away.

She fought tears as she looked at her private space, letting the violation sink in before she realized the true danger. Her datebook had been on the desk but she found it on the floor halfway to the kitchen. She knelt on the floor and flipped through it even though she knew what would be missing.

The card with the address Carapace had given her was gone.

Aline told herself that was the plan, that Carapace _wanted_ them to find her there. It helped, but not much. She could only hope Carapace was ready for them when they came.


	5. Chapter 5

The only thought Aline spared before heading out was how absolutely idiotic her plan was. Stringer had a car and he most likely had goons in place already. There was no chance she could reach the address Carapace had given her before they did. Unless there was. Unless Stringer had sent men to search her home and was waiting to hear the report on what they had found before they made a move. Unless he wanted to wait until he considered all the angles before making a move. If he delayed even an hour, it gave Aline an opening to warn Carapace that her trap had been set.

Aline remembered the address she had been given and ran most of the way, only making two wrong turns. By the time she arrived she was out of breath and sweating, her calves aching as she leaned against the building across the street. Carapace had sent Stringer to a factoy that backed up along the docks, with a private pier extending from the back of the building out into the water. The front windows were boarded over from the inside, and multiple flyers and leaflets were plastered over the entrance. 

She took a moment to catch her breath and looked up and down the street for signs Stringer or his men had already arrived. She seemed to have beaten them. When she was able to move without pain again, she ran across the street and into the alley that ran alongside the building looking for an alternate way inside. If this was Carapace’s home base, or if she was simply keeping an eye on it somehow, it had to be accessible. 

Aline had just reached the back of the building when she heard the sound of Stringer’s car engine. She pressed tight against the wall and held her breath, as if that would prevent her from being spotted. The piers running from the back of the building ended at large doors that were secured with locks, but Aline spotted a gap between one door and the ground just large enough for her to scramble under. She heard the car doors shut as she crossed the concrete dock and crouched down, squirming on her belly to get inside.

When she was halfway through the opening, a small section of the floor gave way under her hand. She pulled back only to see an unnaturally perfect square had sunk a half inch. Something unseen clicked, rattled, and then began rolling. She crawled the rest of the way under the door and brushed the dust that had gathered on her clothes as she looked for the source of the noise. She was standing in a huge workspace with rusted iron tracks running its length. The floor was marked with obscure shapes where the machinery had once stood, overhead was a canopy of heavy-looking chains anchored to the support beams.

Aline spotted a staircase along the far wall that led up to an enclosed birds-nest office. She ran to it, hoping she could get inside and out of sight before Stringer and his men came inside and found her snooping around. 

She had just reached the center of the room when the floor under her feet began to tremble. She bit her tongue to keep from crying out, changing course just as a seam appeared in front of her. She had too much forward momentum to stop, and even shifting to the left or right made her fear she would fall inside the widening gap. She made a sound of terror as she reached the edge and did the only thing she could do: she jumped. She landed hard on the other side, finally crying out when she landed awkwardly on her left foot. Her ankle bent to one side and sent her tumbling, pain radiating up her calf to her knee as she crumpled in a heap on the concrete.

Falling may have saved her life, as an egg-shaped object mounted on a pole emerged from the new opening. A beam of silvery blue light shot out and began to sweep around the room. Aline put her hands over her head when the beam passed by her. She didn’t know what would happen if she was caught in the beam but she wasn’t keen on finding out.

The light faded, and Carapace erupted from the gap. Aline had heard the tell-tale hiss of her boots just before she appeared. The woman landed with ease on the other side of the gap, one knee down and the other bent against her chest. She had one fist planted beside her on the ground and the other arm up to aim a wrist-mounted weapon at whoever was still standing. She looked at the empty room in front of her, then looked over her shoulder to see Aline cringing on the ground.

“What are you doing here?” She rose and turned around. She loomed on her side of the gap as she looked down at Aline’s ankle. “You’re hurt.”

“Stringer... his men are--”

The sound of gunfire was amplified by the empty room, echoing off the far walls and making it sound like a full assault. Carapace arched her back and cried out in pain, twisting to fire blindly behind her. Two of Stringer’s men had just crawled under the door, still practically lying on the ground as they fired at the heroine. She fired her own weapon at the men, a small silver disc propelled from her sleeve by a puff of smoke. The men fired again and Carapace was hit in the shoulder.

Aline rolled to get onto her hands and knees, avoiding her damaged ankle by crawling. Carapace heard her moving and said, “Drop into the gap! Turn east, away from the water, follow the tunnel. You’ll be safe down there.”

“What about you?”

“Go!” Carapace fired with both arms raised and made evasive moves to prevent the shooters from getting a clear angle on her. 

Aline reached the edge of the gap. The egg-shaped object was still standing, and she saw a control panel embedded in its side. She watched Carapace take cover behind a pillar, saw Stringer’s men moving to intercept her, and cursed the idea even as it formed in her mind. She leaned out over the gap and grabbed hold of the egg’s support pole. Her damaged foot lifted off the ground, her good foot trying to root itself into the concrete at the edge of the hole, she held on at an incredibly awkward angle as she reached her free hand up to the control panel.

Carapace looked over and said, “Aline, don’t!”

The machine buzzed, and its brilliant silvery light shot out again. Carapace threw herself down in time to avoid the beam, but Stringer’s men weren’t quite as fast. The beam passed over them and their legs instantly became noodles. They dropped and hit the floor hard enough that they were certain to wake up with something broken. Aline was so thrilled that her plan had worked that she forgot that the beam would sweep the entire room. Her peculiar angle meant that it only passed over the top of her head, but her eyes rolled back in her head almost instantly. She was conscious long enough to be aware of how unusual it felt, like her brain was being swapped back to front. 

Her fingers went limp and her knee bent, dropping her into the gap Carapace had used to make her entrance. She remembered being hopeful she would fall unconscious before she hit the ground.

#

Aline’s consciousness returned while she was being carried in Carapace’s arms. They were in a dark tunnel, brickwork arching above Carapace’s head. Aline looked up at the woman’s mask, but then her gaze dropped to the bit of skin between the seals of the mask and the collar of her shirt. Pink flesh, supple and breakable. She brought her hand up to touch it, to confirm the hero’s humanity, but the shades fell again before she could make contact.

#

The smell of food woke her the second time, having the unfortunate side effect of also awakening her hunger. She hadn’t eaten since before her run-in with Stringer, but had that been a full day ago? Only a few hours? She had no idea how long she had been unconscious. When she tried to move she cried out in pain and looked down to see her left arm was strapped against her side. Her left foot was also encased in plaster that ran halfway up her calf.

She was in a brick room that would have been cozy if it had windows. There was a bed on either side of hers, one of them bearing rumpled sheets and bloody remnants of what looked like a minor surgical endeavor. There was no door to the room, only a brick archway through which she could see a poorly-lit corridor. Voices echoed from one end of the hall but the echo was too great for her to pinpoint which way.

“Hello?”

The voices stopped. A few seconds later she heard a door close. Panic surged as she thought her hosts had left, but then an older man stepped into the doorway. He was tall and lanky, a bag of bones in a threadbare suit. His gray hair was thinning but still thick enough to be sharply parted and slicked to one side with pomade. He smiled and paused just outside the room.

“Well, there you are. How are you feeling?”

“I’m... I’m better than I would have been. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. Carapace is the only who brought you here. I just wrapped you up so you wouldn’t hurt yourself further while you were unconscious. May I come in?”

Aline said, “This is your home, isn’t it?”

He smiled. “That may be so, but I’ve found that any room where a woman is lying in bed, it’s best to ask permission before crossing the threshold.”

Aline chuckled at that. “Yes.”

He entered and sat down on the edge of the bed next to hers. “You fell about eight feet and landed hard on your shoulder. Carapace didn’t know how you hurt your ankle.”

“I tried jumping the gap while it was opening.”

“That’s probably not the wisest choice.”

Aline arched an eyebrow. “I’ll say, especially considering I fell down the blasted thing anyway.” The events in the warehouse rushed back to her. “Carapace. She was hurt.”

The man looked at the detritus on the bed next to him and gathered it up. “She was shot in the arm. The breastplate stopped the other bullets, but she’s still pretty banged up from it. Not that she would ever admit it.”

She nodded slowly and then narrowed her eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m still foggy. Did you say who you were?”

He laughed. “Oh. Sorry. You’ve been down here a few hours, and I’ve been reading your articles, and Carapace has been talking about you... I felt as if I knew you. I’m Isaiah McKeon. I built a lot of the gadgets Carapace uses to be... well, to be Carapace. She designs them herself and I put them together.”

Aline rubbed her forehead with two fingers. “You... you said I’d been down here for hours?”

“Sure have. The little dust-up in the warehouse happened yesterday. It’s Wednesday morning. Hey, I suppose that means we’ll have another Carapace article to look forward to, right?”

“Yeah. Where is she?”

“She left. She didn’t want to be around when you woke up and started asking questions.”

Aline twisted her lips. “She’s probably annoyed at me for screwing up her plans so royally.”

“She actually said you helped save her life. She was just annoyed you got yourself hurt in the process, but that’s directed more toward herself than at you. Flawed design on the Lullaby Light.”

“That’s what that thing is?”

Isaiah nodded. “She likes giving things little names like that. It attacks the synapses of the brain with a certain light frequency. Tricks it into shutting down for a few seconds, and that puts anyone caught in the beam right to sleep. It’s a delicate business. We, um... we may have caused permanent brain damage to a couple of rats down here testing it out the first time.”

“Brain damage?”

“Just the prototype. It’s perfect non-lethal now, I assure you. I would demonstrate by taking a dose myself, but Carapace wanted me to escort you home as soon as you woke up.”

Aline said, “Oh. Home...”

“If you were hoping you’d get to see her in her natural habitat, I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed. As long as you’re here, she plans to be elsewhere. And she needs to recuperate as badly as you do.”

“I understand.” She sat up and put her feet on the floor, taking a moment for her head to stop swimming. “Thank her for me, would you? And could you apologize for me?”

Isaiah nodded. “I’ll pass along your sentiments. Are you sure you’re up to moving around? She’ll be gone another couple of hours if you want to rest.”

“I’ll take some food if you have any. And water. But then, yes. I should go. I think I’d rest better in my own bed.”

“Okay. And we definitely have food and water in the kitchen.”

He gave her a crutch and slowly led her out of the bedroom and down the hall to a room that was more pantry than true kitchen. Pots and pans hung on the walls, and gas lanterns were placed across the room from each other to make overlapping rings of softly dancing orange light. The table in the center of the room had fruits and vegetables in boxes, and Isaiah began searching for something for Aline to eat. Aline looked further down the hall, the light sconces that provided the only illumination. The truth dawned on her, and she tilted her head back to look at the ceiling.

“Holy smokes. We’re in the Underground.”

Isaiah nodded. “Yep. I had a lab downtown before the fire. Everything got built on top of it before I had a chance to come in and get everything. So when I finally dug it out, I discovered it had survived mostly unscathed. So I set up shop again. Comfortable, familiar, safe, and no neighbors getting upset when I accidentally blow something up. It’s perfect for me.”

“And Carapace? You just found her down here?”

He smiled and held up a finger. “Ah-ah. It’s not my place to share her story, and I won’t betray her trust. Especially not with a journalist. No offense.”

“No, none taken. I’m making a career out of writing about her in the newspaper. It’s only fair that she keeps her secrets close to her vest. Can I just... ask one thing, though? It’s a broad yes or no, nothing that would help me identify her.”

“I’ll answer if I can.”

Aline felt silly even saying the words, but she remembered the tunnel, the glimpse of Carapace’s neck. She leaned close and lowered her voice.

“Is she a human being?”

“As opposed to...?”

Aline gestured toward the sky with her head and Isaiah laughed.

“Oh! Well. No worries on that count. She’s as human as you or I.”

Aline shook her head. “No, sir. Even if she is human, I think she’s being a better human than either of us ever could.”


	6. Chapter 6

Aline allowed herself to be blindfolded when Isaiah led her out of the catacombs. She understood the need for privacy; Carapace couldn’t exactly have a reporter traipsing into her sanctum sanctorum whenever she pleased. Isaiah moved slowly in deference to her blindness and her injured foot, helping her up stairs and carefully describing when she would have to watch her step. Her mind’s eye conjured up a vast network of caves with steep drop-offs into the bowels of the Earth, even though the echoes told her the space was much tighter than that.

They walked until Aline started getting used to the blindness, following Isaiah’s direction without hesitation. Finally, however, he stopped in front of her and carefully untied the blindfold so her hair wouldn’t get pulled. She squinted and blinked in the relative brightness of the tunnel and looked around as everything came back into focus. Somehow they had gotten above ground, and they stood in another abandoned warehouse where the windows had been bricked instead of boarded.

“I guess you have places like this all over town, huh?”

“A few, yes. It helps her come and go as she pleases without being pursued or seen ducking into any buildings that might be traced back to her true identity.”

Aline said, “You can trust that tidbit won’t make it into any of my articles.”

“I thank you. And I’m sure that she would thank you if she were here.”

“Would you tell her...” She furrowed her brow. “Would you tell her that people appreciate her? She might not know how the stories are being received, but the paper is getting all sorts of mail from people around the city who feel safer just knowing she’s around. She’s made such a difference in the city already just in terms of morale. I know it’s gotta be one heck of a sacrifice to run around in that mask, fighting people with weapons... I can’t imagine doing it to save my own skin, let alone to save someone else’s. She’s a good person.”

Isaiah smiled. “I’ll convey the message. Do you need my help getting home?”

“Not home... just to the streetcar. I can manage the rest if I can keep the crutch.”

“Of course.” He put his hand on her arm to guide her out of the building. Once she was limping along the sidewalk she risked a look back at the building they had exited. It was one of the oldest constructions in Seattle, a brick hotel that had been standing during the fire twenty years earlier. It originally stood fifteen stories and the elevation of street level had cut it down to a mere three. Aline imagined what could possibly be hidden on those subterranean twelve floors and decided not to think too long about it.

#

The doctor she visited questioned her makeshift cast, as well as the sling that appeared to have been cut from a sheet, but she claimed her downstairs neighbor was a former physician and had used whatever he could until she could get real treatment. He declared that her ankle was sprained rather than broken, but her arm hadn’t fared as well. The cast was taken off of her leg and a new one was put on her left arm. It hampered her ability to walk with a cane so she was given a mechanical bracket. It was relatively new tech, and she watched with interest as her lower left leg was enclosed in a skeleton of metal. The device would keep her knee slightly bent so she didn’t put pressure on her injured ankle, stepping instead on the flat hoof.

She practiced walking in the doctor’s office and then went home. Once she figured out that one of her legs was slightly longer than the other it was easy enough to get around, but the doctor hadn’t prepared her for the weight of dragging the damn apparatus around. She had to stop at almost every block, and she didn’t look forward to climbing the stairs once she got home. 

Finally she made it, dripping sweat and aching worse than when she’d gone to the doctor. She dropped heavily onto her bed and yanked up her skirt, bending down to see if she could figure out how to loosen the damnable false leg’s pieces. She would rather limp and fumble with a cane than hop along with a contraption that weighed more than she did.

She had just gotten comfortable when there was a timid knock on the door. “Yes?”

“It’s Ginny, Miss Whyte. Mama wanted to know if you were the one making such a racket coming in just now.”

“I’m afraid so. Tell her not to worry. I’ll be quiet from here on.”

“Are you all right?”

Aline sighed and rubbed her sore leg with her unbound hand. “Actually, um. Could you come in for a minute? I need you to move some things around for me if you don’t mind.”

The door opened and Ginny came inside. She glanced toward the bed and her eyes widened. “Holy mackerel! What in the world happened to you?” It was only then that she noticed the state of the apartment. “Miss Whyte!”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Ginny blinked in disbelief. “Ain’t your fault. I mean, you didn’t do this. And you didn’t do that to yourself. What in the world happened?”

“I can’t talk about it.”

“Oh. Miss Whyte.” Ginny went to her and knelt in front of the bed. “Miss Whyte, he can’t do this. It doesn’t matter if you said vows to him, they didn’t include letting him do this sort of thing to you.”

Aline was touched by the girl’s zeal, horrified she had leapt to such an awful conclusion. “No, no. Ginny, dear, it wasn’t anything like that.” She took Ginny’s hand to squeeze the fingers reassuringly. “No one hurt me. I landed wrong on my ankle and took an awful tumble.”

“Okay, well...” Ginny looked around. “What happened to the rest of your apartment?”

“That’s a little harder to explain. But I’m not in danger. You can trust that.” She didn’t know if she could back up that promise. If Stringer blamed her for the trap Carapace had sprung on them, he might come after her again. He knew where she lived and where she worked... She pushed aside that worry and cupped Ginny’s face. “You’re sweet to worry. But all I need is someone to help me tidy this place up a little.”

“Sure. Sure, um. If you don’t mind having a stranger in here, I know a service. They’ll send a lady in here and make it look just like it was before.”

Aline said, “Well, if you’re getting a maid, I’d hope it ends up a little better than it was before.”

Ginny smiled. “Okay. If you’re sure. I’ll send a message and get a maid up here to tidy up a little.”

“Thank you, Ginny. Not just for helping out, but for trying to help. It’s good to know you’d speak up if something bad did happen.”

“Sure thing, Miss Whyte.”

“Aline, please.”

Ginny nodded reluctantly and then stood up. “I’ll go see if I can find her card. You rest and forget about work for right now. If I hear that typewriter rattling there’s gonna be heck to pay. Understand?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Aline said, her cowed tone betrayed by the smirk teasing the corner of her lips.

When Ginny left, Aline stood up and hopped carefully across the room to her desk. She pulled out the chair and sank down with her left leg extended out in front of her, baring her teeth in anticipation of pain as she lowered her heel to the floor. She remembered Ginny’s admonishment about the typewriter and chose a biro pen instead. She had promised Ginny she wouldn’t work, and Isaiah had her word that nothing she’d seen or heard in the Underground would make it into the paper. But she wasn’t going to let the ordeal go undocumented. She knew the risk of writing down anything identifiable about Carapace, but she would make sure it was well-hidden just in case any of Stringer’s men came back for another search.

#

When Ginny offered to call a maid, Aline envisioned someone older with arms made thick from grunt work. The girl who knocked a day later was painfully young, in her mid-twenties, and achingly beautiful. Her eyes were the color of water just after a storm and her curly blonde hair was held back under a blandly floral kerchief. A few strands fell down on either side of her face, and it was all Aline could do not to reach up and brush them out of the way.

She introduced herself as Lisbet Dahl with a thick Danish accent, her words crisp but still entirely understandable. Aline explained that she just needed things to be cleaned up a little, and Lisbet nodded in understanding as she set up her things.

“Is it okay if I’m here while you work?”

“Yes, it’s fine,” Lisbet said. She kept her head down and her eyes focused on the task at hand. 

Aline went to the bed and sat down, trying to watch the girl without being obvious about it. “How long have you lived here, Lisbet?”

“Here, America or here, Seattle?”

“Whichever one you’re comfortable answering.”

Lisbet thought about the question before she answered. “Seven years. My mother brought us here from Denmark for my brother, so he could get education. She choose Seattle because it was, ah. Rich?” She looked at Aline, who nodded that the word fit. “It was a good place to live, she thought. But to get money, she has to work many hours. I help her when I can. Brother goes to school. Is killed by a robber while out buying groceries.”

Aline winced. “God. I’m so sorry.”

Lisbet shrugged as she began tidying up the overturned drawers Stringer had left. “Now we have nothing to do but work.”

“Have you ever thought about going home? Or...”

“No. Even if we wanted, home is... ah... rich?”

Aline said, “Expensive?”

“Yes. We were lucky to afford trip here. Going back, no.” She shook her head. “So we stay and we work. It’s enough.”

“Probably not much time left to enjoy yourself.”

Lisbet smiled. “I enjoy my work, Miss.”

“I’m sure you do.”

“What... wh-what do you do? If I can ask.”

“You can. I write for the _Clarion_.”

Lisbet looked at her. “The Carapace newspaper! I read every day.” She grinned, and it brought her whole face to life. Her eyes sparkled and her cheeks cratered with deep dimples. “I also read advice column. You are Hinting Helen!”

Aline laughed. Hints From Helen was actually a collaborative effort from the entire staff, men and secretaries included. “No, I actually write the Carapace articles.”

For the first time since she arrived, Lisbet’s professional demeanor vanished. She dropped her hands and straightened her shoulders to stare at Aline for a long moment before she spoke.

“You write?”

Aline nodded and pointed. “The desk, over there? Look in the bottom drawer. I saved some drafts of the earlier articles.”

Lisbet went to the desk, crouched down, and retrieved the papers. She sat down to read the top one, skimming down the block of text before she lifted her head again.

“A.M. Whyte?”

“That’s me.”

Lisbet smiled again. “You’re a woman!”

“Why yes, I am.”

Lisbet looked at the papers, giggled, and quietly stamped her feet on the floor. “The super lady in these stories make me inspired. And they are written by a lady, too! So I could maybe write, too. Someday.”

Aline said, “Oh! You’re a writer?”

“Pft. I write. It’s the only thing I have time to do, you know, is think. I get scrap papers from the houses I clean and I can write on them for no money. Maybe one day I will write for the newspaper, too.”

“Maybe so. If you come back next week to clean again, you could bring some of your writing so I could read it.”

Lisbet’s first reaction was excitement, but she quickly stifled it. “No, no. I am not that good enough yet.”

“Well. Maybe one day. And if you ever need some advice, you know where I live.”

“Really?” She looked up from the page, one eyebrow arched. “You would help me?”

“Sure. You think I would be writing front page stories if someone hadn’t helped me when I was first starting out? I’m happy to do it.”

“Wow.” Lisbet chuckled self-consciously. “You don’t even know me.”

“Maybe I want to get to know you better.”

Lisbet tilted her head to the side and her smile wavered, as if she wasn’t sure how to respond. Finally she just nodded and looked at the papers again. After a moment she flapped her hands.

“Ah. Ah! I should be working. Mother would have a fit.”

“It’s okay. I don’t mind if you read for a little while.”

“Just for a little while.”

Aline nodded. She might have ulterior motives to inviting the girl back, but she didn’t even know if she would respond to advances from a woman. Even if their relationship didn’t turn physical, Aline did like the idea of mentoring a budding writer. She meant every word she said. She would have probably been a maid or a teacher if she hadn’t forced her way through the doors of the _Clarion_. She liked the idea of ushering in the next generation of female writers. 

She crossed her legs as carefully as she could, favoring her sore leg, and watched as Lisbet gleefully turned to the next article.


	7. Chapter 7

It took several days for Aline to find out what happened to Mordecai Stringer after the events in the warehouse. Apparently Carapace had taken the time to restrain the men who had come into the warehouse before she carried Aline to safety. Outside Stringer’s driver had reacted to the ruckus inside by fleeing the scene. Constables had arrived moments later to arrest Stringer’s men. Once in custody the men were extremely vocal about who hired them and who they had been chasing. The police searched the warehouse but, if they found any evidence of Carapace’s secret passageway they kept it out of the papers.

Stringer was admonished but not arrested for his part in the fracas. After all, his men were trying to bring a vigilante to justice. That was ill-advised but not a crime. In the end he received a slap on the wrist and the police ended their official statement with a reminder that anyone with information about Carapace should bring it to the police rather than trying to stop her themselves.

Aline continued to heal. She couldn’t go out to collect witness stories about Carapace so she settled on editorializing about her presence in the city. For once she wasn’t relying on other people’s reactions and forced to reveal what she really thought about the so-called super human protector of their city. 

A nuisance? Perhaps. If the police had bothered to do their jobs, Aline could see how Carapace might get caught underfoot. 

Dangerous? Hell, she just had to look down at her ankle to know that was true. But how dangerous would the streets be without her holding back the tide? Criminals were already everywhere and Carapace was the only thing holding them back from full domination.

“The existence of Carapace, or the idea of someone like Carapace, isn’t ideal. None of us chose to live in a city where we rely on someone like her to protect us. And none of us asked her to take on this responsibility. But the simple fact of the matter is she’s here now. We need her. And I personally hope she sticks around for a very long time.”

For the first two weeks after hurting herself, a courier came by to retrieve her articles because Aline wasn’t up to walking downtown. On the third week, when she could conceivably have gotten herself to the streetcar and back, S.O. Finn surprised her by knocking on her door late one Tuesday afternoon. Aline’s initial suspicion was Eli had sent her, but it quickly became apparent that Finn had volunteered for the duty. She entered the apartment without being invited and took a quick scan to make sure Aline wasn’t living in squalor. Then she looked her friend up and down and decided her injuries weren’t too horrifying.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Finn said, arms crossed over her chest and concern tinging her stern expression.

“I’m fine. I just got a little banged up.”

“You were chasing down that Carapace, weren’t you?”

Aline sighed. The official story she’d given to the paper was that she’d fallen down the stairs while half-asleep. She realized too late that Finn would never buy the lie.

“I want to know more about her.”

“Have you ever considered that maybe she wears the mask because she doesn’t want people to know about her? I think she tolerates your articles about her, but she doesn’t endorse them. She wants to be left alone and anonymous.”

“You’ve never even met her.”

Finn said, “No one has, except for you and a bunch of criminals. There’s even...” She trailed off and looked at her feet, then sighed. “Some people at the paper are talking. The fact you’ve written all those articles and now you’re hurt makes some of them thing you might possibly be Carapace yourself.”

Aline laughed. “That’s ridiculous!”

“It’s gotten you on the front page, hasn’t it? You’re making a name for yourself as the go-to source for Carapace information. It’s enough to make some people start talking.”

“People like you?”

Finn wrinkled her nose. “Oh, I know you too well to think you’re that dense. You’re not Carapace. You’re just chasing down a story. I understand that. But if you’re using Carapace to protect your job at the paper, consider that mission accomplished.”

Aline said, “People in this city need to know she’s out there. What she’s doing is important.”

“I’m not arguing that.” Finn crouched in front of Aline and took her hands. “But you’re important, too. If she has to be in the papers, then fine. Let her be in the papers. Let her be in the _Times_ and the _Post-Intelligencer_. Just because you were the one to break the story doesn’t mean you have to chase her all the way down the rabbit hole.”

The apartment door opened before Aline could respond. Lisbet was wearing a peasant blouse over a long skirt that obscured her feet so it seemed as if she was an upturned flower petal blown in by the wind. Her head was down to look at the sheaf of papers in her hand, and she began speaking as soon as she was inside.

“I did what you said, and it helped very much I think. The character...” She trailed off when she looked up and saw Aline wasn’t alone. “Oh. Very sorry. I didn’t think.”

“It’s okay,” Aline said. “Lisbet, this is S.O. Finn. She works with me at the newspaper. Finn, this is Lisbet Dahl. She’s my...”

Lisbet quickly offered, “Maid.”

“My friend,” Aline corrected. “I’ve been helping her with her writing, and also a little with her English. She’s made a lot of progress in just a few weeks.”

“I had a good teacher,” Lisbet demurred. She held out her hand to Finn. “It’s good to meet you. Your name is, um. Esso?”

Finn smiled. “It’s my initials. The S.O. stand for... something other.” She winked, and then looked at Aline again. “I was just on my way out. If I could have your article I’ll turn it on.”

Aline stood up and crossed the room, still enjoying the freedom to simply walk from one place to the next. Lisbet remained near the door, focusing on her papers so she wouldn’t be too intrusive. Aline retrieved the story from where it was stacked next to the typewriter, slipped it into a folder, and handed it to Finn.

“She’s cute,” Finn said under her breath as she placed the folder in her bag.

Aline swatted at her arm. “Hush. It’s not like that.”

Finn pursed her lips skeptically but she let the matter drop. She bid farewell to Lisbet on her way out the door, casting one last loaded look over the girl’s head before she slipped outside. Finn was one of the few people in Aline’s life with whom she’d shared her predilections, but at the moment she was starting to question just how wise that decision was. She smiled an apology at Lisbet and gestured for her to have a seat in the small area she laughingly called her parlor.

“Sorry about S.O. She can be a little nosy.”

“No, it is fine. I like to meet your friends.”

Aline sat next to Lisbet on the divan. “There aren’t many to meet. But Finn is probably the scariest, so you’re all set for the rest. You said you’d done some work on your story?”

“Yes! Yes, it was a very good weekend. Let me show you.”

She shuffled through the pages, biting her lip in the cute way she did when she was concentrating on something. Aline realized she was staring and told herself to focus on the task at hand. When she looked down, she instead focused on Lisbet’s hands, the fine fingers and the tiny wrists that were ringed by the cuffs of her blouse. 

“Lisbet... I’ve been helping you speak clearer English, but you haven’t taught me any Dutch.”

“Why would you want to know Dutch?”

“I think you’re more comfortable speaking your native language. It would be nice if every conversation was as easy for you as they are for me. You shouldn’t have to be the only one struggling and worrying if you’re using the right word...”

Lisbet looked up and smiled. “Danish people don’t speak Dutch.”

“You don’t? What do you speak?”

“Danish!” Lisbet laughed and patted Aline’s hand.

Aline was embarrassed by her mistake but vowed not to dwell. “Okay, then. Teach me that.”

“Sweet! No. But no. I live in America now, so I’m going to be very good in English. Thank you for offering, though. Very sweet.”

Aline said, “Okay. Maybe you could still teach me a few words. Just for us.”

“Words like what?”

“Like how you could tell a girl she’s beautiful.”

Lisbet said, “It’s, ah, mooi meisje.”

Aline reached up and brushed a stray curl away from Lisbet’s cheek. She curled her fingers and let them rest on her neck. “Mooi meisje.”

Lisbet looked up through her bangs. She smiled nervously and said, “Yes, you are.”

“No, Lisbet. You.”

“No, I’m... S.O. She is a very pretty girl. She... is your... boyfriend?”

Aline chuckled softly. “No. And you would say girlfriend even when talking about... this. But she’s not my girlfriend. I don’t have a girlfriend. Do you?”

Lisbet shook her head, shrinking further into herself. “No. No one notices me.”

“That’s not true. I did. The moment I saw you.”

“Yes?”

Aline nodded. “You’re beautiful, Lisbet. I know you’re talented now, but the main reason I told you to bring your work over is because I wanted to spend more time with you. I hope I’m not making you too uncomfortable.”

Lisbet shook her head, but she kept her chin down and her eyes averted.

“I think I am. So I’m just going to talk about your story now, and we’ll put what I just said aside for later. Whenever you’re comfortable talking about it.”

“Okay.”

Aline smiled. 

“Aline?”

“Yes.”

“You’re mooi meisje, too.”

She smiled. “Thank you, Lisbet.” She tapped the papers with one finger. “Now before I got all selfish, you were very excited about something in your story. Let’s talk about that.”

#

Aline took Finn’s words to heart. She continued her features on Carapace but stopped digging deeper and deeper into the heroine’s activities. People got bored with the story eventually and Eli reluctantly informed her that he was moving anything Carapace-related under the fold. Aline understood his position entirely. No one could stay on top forever, and she had a phenomenal run at the top. It was time to let the other writers at the paper have a shot.

Her friendship with Lisbet grew. They no longer confined themselves to the apartment once Aline was comfortable taking long walks again. There was a park a half-mile from her building and they started meeting there to feed the ducks and talk about Lisbet’s work. One day while they watched the water, Lisbet slid her hand across the bench and linked her fingers with Aline’s. She was obviously terrified, her back stiff and her lips pressed together as she looked around to see if anyone was looking at them. When she looked toward Aline, their eyes locked and they shared a smile.

“I like this,” Lisbet said in Danish.

“It feels nice,” Aline said in response. She knew a handful of Danish phrases, just enough so she and Lisbet could talk about certain things without worrying over eavesdroppers. Aline got a thrill out of calling Lisbet a “pretty girl” where people could hear her but didn’t understand what a scandalous thing she’d just done. It was remarkably freeing.

Carapace stopped a bank robber from fleeing the scene of his crime by stunning him with a bolt of electrical energy. When the police arrived they determined Carapace had exhibited unlawful force against an unarmed man. In the paper Aline pointed out the man was only unarmed because he threw down his pistol immediately upon leaving the bank. No one cared much about the difference, and no one viewed Carapace as the villain in that situation. The public was not swayed in their opinion of their protector.

Aline took Lisbet out to dinner followed by ice cream. Their meals together were becoming more frequent, and Aline found herself dreading the end of the night when Lisbet would go home.

“I’ve never seen her, you know.”

It took Aline a moment to figure out what she meant. “Carapace? You’re not missing much really. She’s usually so quick, she’s gone before you realize she was ever there at all.”

“Still. I would like to see her. Just one time.”

Aline nodded. “I know the feeling.” She thought back and realized she hadn’t seen Carapace since the incident when she was injured. She looked out the window of the ice cream parlor, as if her realization was enough to make the heroine appear at that instant. “She can be pretty impressive in the flesh.”

“Aline?”

“Mm.”

“I would like to be fired from you.”

Aline was shocked, not only by the words but by how poorly the sentence was constructed. Lisbet had been growing by leaps and bounds, but this was a shocking step backward.

“Why?”

Lisbet was looking at her ice cream. “I want to be your friend. But if you’re paying me, and if I’m working for you when we’re not having talks or walking or talking about my stories, then you are my employer. I want to be fired so I can just be your friend. Please.”

Aline reached across the table and took Lisbet’s hand. “Oh. You’re fired, Lisbet.”

Lisbet squeezed Aline’s hand. “Thank you.”

“I should have fired you weeks ago. It just never occurred to me. I’m sorry.”

Lisbet grinned. “I will find a way to forgive you.”

Aline laughed and brushed her thumb over Lisbet’s knuckles. “Go ahead and finish your ice cream. I’ll walk you home.”


	8. Chapter 8

The streetcar was still there the next morning, surrounded by sawhorses to keep the public and press at bay. It had been knocked from its tracks the night before with an explosive device thrown underneath its wheels by a man wearing a black mask. There weren’t many passengers but that only meant the few who were riding got tossed around inside like pebbles in a tin can. Carapace arrived on the scene before the police did, braving the flames to pull people from the wreckage and usher them to safety.

The bomber allowed her to get all of the passengers out before he opened fire on her. Carapace responded by throwing a handful of flashers at the man, but he’d brought backup. While she was focused on the shooter three other men approached Carapace from behind. One of them tackled her to the ground and began to pull at her mask while his friends held her arms to prevent her from using her gadgets to counter their attack. 

Carapace had been on her knees when the men piled onto her. When she realized fighting wasn’t getting her anywhere, she went limp. The men were thrown off balance and she threw herself against them before they could recover. She rolled toward the fire that was still burning and was rewarded by their screams of pain. One man let go of her arm to pat out the flames on his clothes, freeing her to fire a small projectile at the man restraining her left arm. When they fell back it was a simple enough matter to grab the man still fumbling at her mask. She threw herself forward and pulled him over her head. He slammed onto the street hard enough to bounce and Carapace, her jacket smoldering from her time in the fire, got her feet flat on the ground. Her boots fired and propelled her high enough to grab a nearby fire escape. 

Witnesses claimed she didn’t even slow down to stop her clothes from smoking. She simply slipped out of the jacket and carried it with her as she ascended to the roof. The men who had attacked her recovered and escaped before the police could arrive.

Aline was among the throng, taking witness statements and viewing the damage with her own eyes. Attacking a streetcar didn’t have any value other than destruction. The only possible reason behind it would be to draw Carapace out. The destruction was just bait to make her show herself. Apparently Stringer wasn’t amused by how close she’d come to capturing him and was looking for a chance to take her out of the picture for good.

Aline was startled to see how many reporters were covering the story. It was one thing to know she and the _Clarion_ had lost their niche as the main source for Carapace news. It was quite another to actually see everyone else scrambling for interviews with people who had seen the confrontation first-hand. Lester Colston from the _Post-Intelligencer_ made his way over. She reminded herself that he didn’t actually smell like garbage despite the way he wrote.

“Look who has to fight for her place in line. I guess you finally stopped earning your special favors from old man Callere, huh?”

Aline rolled her eyes and tried to step past him without comment. He reversed direction and walked backwards to keep in her line of sight.

“Don’t be rude, Allen. It’s not your fault. You probably just got too old for him.”

Aline moved to her right. Colston moved to keep ahead of her and his foot slipped into the streetcar track. He twisted as he fell, turning his ankle so that his foot wedged in the metal rail. He made a wholly undignified noise as he hit his butt, and the other reporters turned to see Aline standing tall over the fallen man.

“You really ought to look where you’re going, Mr. Colston. You might make yourself look even more ridiculous than you usually do.” She stepped over him and, without turning back, gave him one last parting shot. “And my name is A.M. Whyte, and the A stands for Aline. Not Allen. Get it right, would you, Leslie?”

Part of her, the idealistic part, hoped that her brother reporters would applaud her for sticking up for herself. Instead they moved to help Lester free his foot. One of them muttered a word she chose not to understand as he stepped around her. She didn’t care. She kept her head high and followed the tracks to the corner, moving downhill with her notes tucked in her jacket pocket. Let Lester and his ilk say what they wanted. Let them claim going on her back had gotten her all the way to the front of the paper. Nothing she said would change their minds, and her words on the page spoke loud enough.

She just had to learn how to get thicker skin.

#

Lisbet started cooking for her on the nights they worked on her writing. Aline had never seen much use for the kitchen other than as a place to make sandwiches for herself. There was a deli down the street, and she made good use of cereal and oatmeal, things any monkey could make given the ingredients. Lisbet had learned how to make actual meals out of ingredients. She wore a red-and-white checkered apron and pinned her hair back so it wouldn’t get in her eyes. 

The first time they both approached it as a teaching exercise. It didn’t take long before they agreed it would be best if Lisbet just took care of the cooking on her own. Lisbet enjoyed taking care of her, and Aline really enjoyed watching Lisbet cook. The heat from the stove made her forehead and upper lip bead with sweat, and Aline wondered what it would be like to kiss the moisture away. The two were practically inseparable lately, with Lisbet visiting more often than not.

Aline brought it up the day after Carapace’s streetcar escapade. “You’re over here an awful lot.”

“Am I not invited?”

“Of course you are! The place feels empty when you’re not around. I miss your voice. But I’m worried your mother might start wondering just how messy I am. I don’t want her to think I’m working your fingers to the bone.”

Lisbet giggled. “No, no. I told Mama you were my friend and not a client. If not she would be expecting money you are not giving me. Big troubles.”

“She doesn’t mind?”

“Hm?”

A line appeared on Aline’s forehead. She didn’t know how to broach the topic. She assumed Lisbet understood what was happening. They’d discussed boyfriends and girlfriends, romance, and the like. But while Lisbet was speaking English much clearer, Aline didn’t know how much she understood of idioms and slang. She didn’t know how to ask without it seeming as if she was insulting her intelligence.

“I just mean, your mother doesn’t mind that I fancy you? And you’ve told her I’m a woman.”

“I’ve told her,” Lisbet said. “And she is glad I have a girlfriend in the city.”

Aline grimaced and looked down at her hands. “Lisbet. I think we need to be clear on something. I’m happy to be your friend. I really enjoy spending time with you just the way we have been. But I also hope it turns into something more one day. You understand? I love you like a friend, but I’m... I’m falling in love with you, too. And I want to be sure you’re okay with that before this goes any further. If you’re only interested in a friendship, then great. But I need to know ahead of time before it breaks my heart.”

Lisbet was staring hard at the pan, breathing heavily with her lips pressed tightly together. Finally she looked up, and she had tears in her eyes.

“You love me?”

Aline nodded. “I do.”

Lisbet held her arms out, and Aline stood up and moved into the embrace. They held each other tight, and Lisbet turned her head to kiss Aline’s cheek.

“I’ve never felt like this for anyone else,” Lisbet whispered. 

“Me neither. You snuck up on me.”

Lisbet laughed softly. “I will try not to hurt your heart.”

“Ditto.”

The food on the stove began to overheat, and Aline whispered that Lisbet should probably check on it. Lisbet nodded and stepped out of the embrace, pausing to hold her hands on Aline’s shoulders.

“I was looking for men. I didn’t like any of them and I was dreading the idea of marrying any of them. I didn’t want... I didn’t want any of them more than the others. But I would choose you, Aline. I would be happy with you. I think, um, I think that means something.”

“I think so, too.” She brushed the curls away from Lisbet’s cheek and gestured at the stove. “Now hurry up before you burn my dinner.”

Lisbet chuckled and went back to her station.

#

Sometimes after dinner, after discussing Lisbet’s writing, they turned down the lights and lay together on the couch. They remained fully clothed, except for their shoes, curled tightly side-by-side in the darkness. They didn’t talk and they didn’t sleep, and hands rarely strayed out of the safe zone of stomach and shoulder. Several nights Aline had found herself riding on the razor’s edge of unconsciousness with her face against the curve of Lisbet’s neck, amazed she could be content with such a chaste display. By this point in most of her relationships she was already bored with fucking the other person. She had yet to even kiss Lisbet on the lips.

“Aline?”

“Mm.” She blinked her eyes open, the lashes tickling Lisbet’s neck. “I’m awake.”

“I know. I want... to ask. Um.” She was silent for a long time. “Mama got a job at the Puget Towers. She cleans their offices one night a week. She wouldn’t know if I didn’t come home.”

Aline was drowsy. “Do you want me to walk you home to make sure you get there safely?”

“No,” Lisbet said. “I want to sleep with you. If that is okay.”

Aline lifted her head and Lisbet was looking away from her. “I don’t want to... not...” She wet her lips and swallowed. “I just want to sleep. Okay? I can go home if you want something else, but, um...”

“Sh.” Aline smiled. “I’d love it if you spent the night. Hell, I’ve wanted it for a long time.” She sat up and looked toward the wardrobe. “I think I have a nightgown you could borrow. And um, you can use my toothbrush.”

“Oh, I don’t need. I just...” She mimed rubbing her finger across her teeth. “I use your powder, though, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Thank you, Aline.”

Aline just chuckled and nodded. “Let me get you that nightgown. You can change in the bathroom.”

Lisbet nodded. “Aline.”

“Mm-hmm?” She tucked her hair behind her ears.

“Jeg elsker dig.”

Aline though for a moment. “You... something me. You. Oh...” She smiled and blushed in the darkness. “Thank you.”

“I’ll go change.”

Aline nodded and forced herself away from Lisbet. When the bathroom door closed, Aline went to the wardrobe and quickly changed into her pajamas: a button-down shirt and a pair of men’s underwear. Once she had changed she went to bed and lowered herself to the edge of the mattress. She had never been so excited to just share a bed with someone, without even the potential of anything physical happening. In her mind that had to mean something, just like Lisbet’s ineffable feelings had to mean something. It was foreign and frightening, but it was something Aline was eager to embrace wholeheartedly if she could just find the courage to open her heart to it.

The bathroom door opened a few minutes later, and Lisbet stood in the doorway in Aline’s new favorite nightgown. It left her arms bare and stopped just below her knees, but the dim light from the bathroom outlined the curves hidden underneath. Lisbet brushed the material with her hands and then looked up to see if her appearance met with Aline’s approval.

“Time for bed?”

“Time for bed,” Aline agreed.

Lisbet turned off the light and crossed the room to join Aline on the bed.


	9. Chapter 9

A fire on Lenora Street resulted in Carapace being thrown from a second story window. She managed to use her thrusters to soften her fall, but she was still down when Stringer’s men descended upon her. She tried to flee only to find herself surrounded by more goons. Carapace always seemed reluctant to harm even those trying to hurt her, but this time she had no choice. She launched two explosive devices, one from each sleeve, at the nearest men. They were knocked back by the detonation and their removal allowed her to focus on the other two men. She managed to take them out and fled down a nearby alley. Stringer’s men chose to save themselves rather than pursue.

Lisbet read about the incident in the _Post-Intelligencer_ two days after it happened. She was sitting at Aline’s dinner table in her pajamas, hair still messy from bed and her makeup not yet done. They’d been sleeping together almost every night. Their official story was that Aline had a spare bedroom and Lisbet argued to her mother that it was time she moved out to be her own person. She said her time at Aline’s was only a trial run, but everyone involved knew it could easily become permanent.

Despite their new sleeping arrangements, they still hadn’t kissed. Aline was starting to become frustrated by the lack of physicality but she couldn’t force the issue. She didn’t want Lisbet to feel pressured to do something she wasn’t ready for. But God, how long could she be expected to wait? She was about to go bonkers.

At the moment she was channeling her frustration into cooking. She could fix a reasonable breakfast and, since Lisbet was usually responsible for their dinners, it was only fair that Aline take care of the first meal of the day. She had just finished the bacon when Lisbet folded the paper over and rested her hands on top of it.

“Aline? Can I show you something?”

“Of course.”

Lisbet got up and went to the stack of newspapers next to the door. She chose three and brought them back to the table, where she lined them up chronologically. She licked her finger and folded each paper to the Carapace story.

“I think it’s very weird. Last time, they threw her from the building and then piled onto her. Last week when she arrived at the scene there was just one man, but then there were more on every route she tried to use to escape. One man on every route.”

Aline nodded. “They may just be varying their attacks since none of their methods have been working very well.”

“No, no. Well, yes. But look, look. One month ago.”

The headline read “CARAPACE SPOTTED EIGHT TIMES!”

“She had a busy day.” Lisbet looked frustrated and Aline touched her arm. “I’m sorry, I just don’t see what you’re getting at, sweetheart.”

Lisbet said, “They attack her one by one. They attack her as a group. They attack her from all over the city to keep her running from one place to the next to see if she gets tired.”

The connection finally clicked for Aline. “They’re trying to find out what her weaknesses are. They’re testing her limits.”

“Yes! That was what I was thinking.”

“That’s big, Lis. That’s huge.”

Lisbet grinned. “I just saw the pattern and I thought maybe.”

Aline said, “I have to write something for this. If I hurry I can get it into tomorrow’s edition.”

“But tomorrow isn’t Wednesday.”

“Something this big needs to be published as soon as possible. What if their next test is seeing if Carapace can be set on fire or how long she can breathe underwater? She needs to be warned.”

Lisbet nodded. “You’re right. So I helped?”

“You helped. Thank you.” 

She leaned in to kiss Lisbet’s lips, changing her trajectory at the last second to land on her cheek instead. Lisbet tensed but, when Aline started to pull away, Lisbet put a hand on the back of her head to keep her close. They held the position awkwardly for a moment before Lisbet exhaled sharply as if she had just come to a decision. She lightly pecked Aline’s lips, the bottom before the top. She released a shaky breath, her eyes still open.

“That was nice,” Aline said.

“Did I do it right?”

Aline smiled. “There’s no wrong way to kiss. There are all kinds of ways.”

“Show me.”

“All right.” Aline pressed her lips to Lisbet’s, gooseflesh rising on her arms as she finally kissed the girl she’d been swooning over for weeks. “Part your lips for me,” Aline whispered before covering them again, moaning when she felt Lisbet’s teeth against her bottom lip. They moved slightly so their hips rested against the curve of the dinner table, and Aline put her arms around Lisbet’s waist to hold her close. She flicked her tongue experimentally against Lisbet’s mouth. The girl jerked slightly at the unexpected touch, but the tension seeped out of her and she responded by touching the tip of her tongue to Aline’s.

For most of her sexual history, Aline considered kissing to be a means to an end. A kiss was the handshake at the beginning of a meeting. Perfunctory but necessary to get the ball rolling. The last time a kiss had blown her socks off like this was her first kiss. 

Lisbet ended the kiss and took a deep breath, then made a quiet whimpering sound at the back of her throat. She swallowed and opened her eyes, which seemed even bluer than they had a moment ago.

“Now what do we do?” she asked softly.

 _I take you into the bedroom, rip these clothes off of you, and do all the things I’ve been fantasizing about since I met you_. She licked her lips and pushed that thought away. “Now we say ‘that was very nice,’ and we start doing it a lot more often.”

Lisbet smiled. “That was very nice.”

“Yes. It was.”

“I know you’ve wanted it for a very long time. And I know... you... I know you want to do more than sleeping...”

Aline shushed her. “We’re moving at your pace, sweetheart. This is all new to you. I don’t mind waiting if it means getting my socks knocked off again.”

“So the kiss was good?” Lisbet asked shyly.

Aline kissed her again. “This kiss was very good. Very good. I loved it.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too. Sit... eat. I’ll write up something quick so I can take it to Eli.” She gathered the papers Lisbet had left on the table. “This was a really good catch, sweetheart.”

Lisbet beamed and sat down again, and Aline took the papers to her typewriter. She rolled in a blank sheet of paper and looked over the top of it at Lisbet in the kitchen. Lisbet looked back at her, smiled wide, and then bent over her breakfast. Aline chuckled and began to type.

#

The day after Aline’s article was published - once again on the front page - the city’s interest in Carapace came rushing back in full force. The difference was that they were no longer following a mystery with no apparent resolution in sight. Now there was a conflict, there was a villain they could focus on. Mordecai Stringer was now seen as the anti-Carapace, a shadowy criminal they could all root against. When the hijackers of a transport airship threatened to toss a passenger out the window every hour until Carapace agreed to meet with them, she responded by coordinating her efforts with the harbor patrol. She never set foot on the ship itself, and the hijackers were taken into custody without a drop of blood being shed.

Aline took Lisbet to dinner with the money she got for the article. At the end of the meal she raised a toast to her. “For the lives you’ve saved, and the safety you brought to Carapace.”

Lisbet’s ears burned bright red. “I just had an idea. That’s all.”

“It was a brilliant idea. And no one else in the city had put that together. All these reporters running around clucking to witnesses and repeating facts on the newsprint? We didn’t see it.” She covered Lisbet’s hand with hers. “You should be proud of yourself.”

“I’m proud that I made you happy.”

Aline chuckled. “Well, for now that will do.”

They walked back to Aline’s apartment, which she noticed they were both calling “home” these days. Once they were inside, Aline pressed Lisbet against the wall and kissed her. Now that they’d crossed the line she found it hard to go even a few hours without a kiss, and Lisbet seemed equally as eager. Tonight Lisbet ran her fingers along the collar of Aline’s blouse and moved her head to kiss her jaw, moving toward her throat with unmistakable intent.

Aline grinned and moved her hands over Lisbet’s back. “Mm. Getting bold, are we?”

“Getting frisky.”

“Oh.” Aline’s breath quickened as Lisbet kissed her neck. “Lis... I want this more than I’m comfortable admitting, but I don’t want you pushing anything. I want to be sure you’re ready.”

“I’m ready,” Lisbet said. She put her hands on Aline’s chest and squeezed, and Aline had to close her eyes from the pleasure she got from it. “Make love to me.”

Aline whimpered and pushed Lisbet’s head down, cradling it against her chest. Lisbet responded by kissing her through her shirt, and Aline knew her moment of taking the high road was over. She’d given Lisbet a chance to back out and the girl was only more eager. That was all the consent she needed. She drew Lisbet’s head back up and kissed her as they moved away from the wall. For once she was glad she didn’t have a big apartment, as it meant there were no doors to open or extra lights to put on.

They sank onto the bed, Aline first and then Lisbet on top of her. She spread her legs and hooked her knee on Lisbet’s hip, her hands shaking as she reached for the top button of Lisbet’s blouse. The weeks of abstinence since Lisbet came into her life made her feel like a virgin again, and she almost came when Lisbet accidentally pressed her knee against Aline’s crotch.

“You will have to show me what to do. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Aline pushed the shirt off and sat up to kiss across Lisbet’s shoulders. She pushed down the strap of her bodice. Lisbet sat up and pushed off the other strap, leaving her shoulders bare. Aline kissed her breasts through the thin cotton, teasing both nipples to erection with only her lips and tongue. Lisbet settled on Aline’s lap, and Aline put a hand just above her buttocks to guide her in a gently rolling motion.

Lisbet looked down and watched as she was guided. “Like this?” she whispered.

“Uh-huh,” Aline managed. “Let me see you, my beautiful Dane.”

Lisbet’s hands were shaking when she pushed her undergarment down, revealing her small pale breasts. Aline stared at them for a long moment, tracing the small pink nipples with her thumb, and then closed her eyes as she took one into her mouth. Lisbet hissed through her teeth and muttered something in Danish, grunting quietly as she began to move her hips faster. Aline kissed the slope of her chest and made a shushing sound.

“Slow, my love, slow...”

“I can’t. Please.”

The desperation in Lisbet’s voice made Aline take pity on her. They had all the time in the world to go slow. Aline was aching for an orgasm after a few weeks, but she doubted Lisbet had ever had one in her life. She moved her hand between them to touch Lisbet, feeling how wet she was and drawing a cry when her fingers brushed sensitive flesh.

“Okay... you’ve waited long enough. It’s okay.”

Lisbet gripped Aline’s shoulders hard enough to bruise and whimpered helplessly as she climaxed, her hair falling in her eyes as she bared her teeth and cursed in her native language. 

Soon, when the sound of her ragged breathing faded, she looked down and realized Aline was staring at her. The red flush moved from her chest into her cheeks and the shells of her ears, and she nervously tucked her hair out of her face. Aline laced her fingers under Lisbet’s rump and held the girl in her lap, looking up to watch her expression.

“Wow.”

“Are you okay?”

Lisbet took a deep breath and said, “Wow, wow.”

Aline kissed Lisbet’s chest. “I’m glad it was worth the wait.”

“I’m so embarrassed.”

“Why?”

“I was... noisy. You were so quiet.”

Aline chuckled. “I didn’t finish.”

“No?”

“It’s fine. We have time and you’re still coming down off the high. Enjoy it. I can wait. You’re worth the wait.”

Lisbet smiled down at her and stroked her hair. “I’m glad you found me. I don’t think I would have recognized you as something I should want if you hadn’t chased me.”

Aline craned her neck to kiss her. “Come here. Lie down with me.” They rearranged themselves on the bed, stretching out with Lisbet partially lying on top of Aline. They kissed sleepily and explored each other’s bodies without hesitation. Lisbet teased the buttons of Aline’s blouse, and Aline nodded her approval. Lisbet undid them slowly and then bent down to kiss just above Aline’s brassiere.

“This is the most wonderful.”

Aline nodded. “Yeah. Put your head on my chest.”

Lisbet did as she was told, and Aline closed her eyes as she stroked her lover’s hair. The way she figured, she and Lisbet were in the same boat. Lisbet had never had sex before that night, and Aline had never had a satisfying sexual experience without focusing on her own orgasm. 

“ _Min elskede _, I’m falling asleep...”__

__“That’s okay, darling. Sleep. We’ve got tomorrow.”_ _

__“Mm.”_ _

__As Lisbet settled on top of her, Aline looked out the window and wondered if Carapace was on patrol. She hoped she was, and she hoped that whatever she was doing she was keeping herself safe. She closed her eyes and linked her fingers in the small of Lisbet’s back to hold her while she slept._ _


	10. Chapter 10

The following Tuesday when Aline got to work, Eli had a message waiting for her. “Looks like you’ve got a famous reader. Someone at the mayor’s office called to see if you were available for a meeting.”

“Wow. Who wants to meet with me at the mayor’s office?”

He smiled. “The mayor. Who else?” He slapped her arm with the rolled-up file he was carrying. “You’re making friends in high places. Got our paper in the biggest office in town. Keep it up.”

Aline was too surprised to respond. Two days later she arrived at City Hall for her appointment. She was intimidated by the building that rose above her, a three-towered building that flanked a central courtyard. Each building was equipped with docking stations, and the shadows of zeppelins darkened the streets below as they came in. Aline had considered catching a ride on one of the airships but didn’t want to risk upsetting her stomach any more than it already was.

She wore her smartest blue suit, did her hair, and walked into the building feeling as if she was being sent to the principal’s office. She rode the elevator up to the top floor. The antechamber was a circular room walled by windows, so when she stepped out she felt as if she was standing on a platform high above the city. She fought her vertigo and continued into the waiting room.

Cecily Hollister looked up from her desk as Aline came in. Today Aline wore a black blazer over a shirt with a ruffled collar, her black hair done up in a professional bun. She wore rimless eyeglasses for typing, and she took them off when Aline entered the room.

“A.M. Whyte from the _Clarion_ to see Mayor Iverson.”

Cecily smiled. “Yes, Miss Whyte. He’s expecting you. Please, have a seat.”

Aline sat in one of the chairs and placed her bag on the floor in front of her. After a moment Cecily pushed back her chair and stood up. “Would you like some coffee?”

“Thank you, yes. That would be wonderful. Let me help you.”

She joined Cecily at the refreshment stand. Cecily glanced over her shoulder to make sure the mayor’s office door was still closed before she spoke in a whisper.

“He didn’t tell me anything about this meeting, so I can’t help you.”

Aline scoffed. “You haven’t helped me in a while, Cecily. What happened to all those tips you used to share?”

“You haven’t exactly been on the City Hall beat the past few months, have you?” Cecily added sugar and pushed the coffee cup toward Aline with the back of her hand. “I guess politics just aren’t as exciting when you can hang out with a superhuman.”

The office door opened and Mayor Iverson stepped out. “Miss Whyte, I presume?”

“Yes, Mr. Mayor.” She picked up her coffee and then began looking for something to do with it. “Um, sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Bring it in.” He stepped to one side of the door and ushered her into his office. “Cecily, would you make one of those for me, please?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Thank you, dear.”

Aline was surprised by the décor of his inner office. Instead of the magnificent vistas he could have appreciated, everything was closed off and paneled with dark wood. The smell of cigar smoke was embedded in the carpet, every fiber reeking so strongly of it that she almost imagined she could see a cloud of it lingering just above her head. There were four small windows through which she could see the rooftops of surrounding buildings, but otherwise the room was entirely closed off.

Iverson closed the door once he had his coffee. “Please, have a seat. I’m a big fan of your work, Miss Whyte. I must confess I was a little taken aback when I discovered you were a woman, by the way. Not in a bad sense, mind. I’m all for women spreading their wings and exploring the workplace. As long as a couple of them keep at work making babies, I’m not going to complain.” 

He leaned against the edge of his desk and took a sip of his coffee. She had seen him in photographs but in person he was much more imposing. He was tall, looming over her as she sat on the couch facing him. He was dressed in a three-piece suit, and she could see the chain of his watched draped across his abdomen. His receding hair was cropped short and graying at the temples. Aline looked away from him and waited to hear why she’d been summoned.

“What’s your stance on Carapace?”

“Sir?”

“You’re allowed a bit of editorializing in your articles, but it’s still unbiased reporting. I have an idea of your opinion but I’d like to hear it from you.”

Aline frowned. “I think she’s good for the city. There’s a lot of corruption and she’s doing what she can to stop it.”

He nodded. “A lot of people have started calling her a superhero. Do you ascribe to that title?”

“I don’t know. Mr. Iverson, what is this about?”

“It’s about your job, Miss Whyte.” He put his coffee down and stepped forward. He took a slip of paper from his pocket and put it on the table in front of her.

Aline craned her neck forward to look at it. “What’s that?”

“Your first paycheck, if you agree to take the offer. I want to hire you.”

The number was astronomical. “Hire me? For what?”

“The same thing you’ve been doing for the _Clarion_. Carapace. I want you to go out, talk to witnesses, figure out where she’s going and what she’s doing. The only difference will be that instead of writing it down and publishing it, you’ll be reporting to me and a few members of my inner circle. This latest article is exactly what I’m looking for. In-depth and detailed, showing critical thinking.”

“You want me to keep track of Carapace’s movements?”

Iverson smiled. She recognized it from when he came to the paper during his campaign. “Don’t you think those in charge of the city have a responsibility to keep tabs on someone like this? Hero or nuisance, she’s causing quite a lot of damage.”

“She’s stopping a lot of damage, too.”

He smiled in a way she found condescending. “A lot of the damage being done is by people who want to trap her. You pointed that out yourself in this last article. If Carapace was taken out of the picture then violent and dangerous situations in this city would decrease. I’m not asking you to do anything different. I’m only asking you to scale back your readership.”

“I’m not going to be your rat.”

He pointed at the slip he’d given her. “That’s per week. Multiply that by four, and then that by twelve... do you realize how much money you’d be walking away from?”

Aline stood up. “You asked what I thought about Carapace. I may not have a firm grasp about what I feel, but I know one thing. I’m not going to serve her up to people like Mordecai Stringer just for a fat bank account. Find someone else.”

“There is no one else. The breadth of your information is staggering. You are the only journalist in this city who gets the facts each and every time. You have your finger on the pulse of the Carapace story, and I want that pulse to run right through this office.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Mayor.” She stood up and made a point not to look at the offer again. “It will be infinitely cheaper for you to buy a copy of the _Clarion_ every week, and I’ll still be able to sleep at night. Thank you for your kind words about my work.”

She turned and walked to the door. Her hand was on the knob before Iverson spoke again.

“Inger Dahl.”

Aline frowned but didn’t turn to look at him. “Sorry?”

“I believe you’re familiar with her daughter. Lisbet, I believe? Apparently she works for you as a maid, although she seems to spend an awful lot of after-work time cleaning your itty-bitty little apartment. You must be quite a slob.” He chuckled. “I’m not judging. But regardless of what you pay the girl for, the truth is she and her mother are undocumented immigrants. I could have Inger sent back to Denmark. As for the younger one... well. I’m sure American facilities are better equipped. So she might be allowed to remain here.”

“Facilities?” Aline asked. It was a struggle to find her voice. “What facilities?”

“Institutions for girls of her persuasion. Women who prefer the company of other women. I’ve heard they can be a little brutal here, so I can only imagine what they would be like in Europe.”

Aline closed her eyes. “Don’t.”

“I’m sure you could find another maid.”

She finally turned to face him. “You know damn well what you’re threating, Mr. Iverson. You wouldn’t have that ammunition against Lisbet unless you had the same thing against me as well. So just stop it. We both know what’s happening here.”

Iverson said, “Yes. We’re offering you a job. Have you reconsidered your refusal?”

Aline blinked back her tears. “Would I be reporting to you or Mordecai Stringer?”

He smiled. “I believe it would be best to keep a separation of talents. Best if you’re never seen in contact with Mr. Stringer just in case Carapace happens to be watching you. So you’ll deliver your reports to me and I’ll pass them along to... other interested parties. Or you can continue working for the newspaper, spreading talk of Carapace and libel against Mr. Stringer, and we can mention the Dahls to the proper authorities.” He picked up the slip of paper and held it out to her. “The choice is yours, Miss Whyte. This money would be a good start to a new home. Maybe a place large enough for two people.”

Aline took the paper and felt something crumple inside her. She told herself she was doing the right thing. She couldn’t risk Lisbet’s freedom.

“You’ve made the right choice, Miss Whyte.”

She turned on her heel and walked out of his office. She slammed the door behind her and crossed to the seat where she’d left her bag. She stooped to pick it up and the dam broke. She sobbed once and dropped to her knees, balling up the paper with Iverson’s offer and pressing it to her face. Someone approached her from behind and gripped her shoulders. Thinking it was the mayor, she recoiled and pushed with her elbows and spine.

Cecily gently said, “Stop that this instant and let me hold you.”

Aline surrendered. Cecily crouched behind her and wrapped both arms around Aline. The thought of what Iverson had threatened Lisbet with was horrifying to her. She’d heard stories about those institutions and what they did to girls put there for indecent and lewd behaviors. She had a vivid mental flash of Lisbet in ill-fitting pajamas, unwashed, her beautiful hair hacked away and the shine in her eyes dulled by pills. 

“He’s a bastard,” Cecily whispered. “Whatever he said, whatever he asked you to do, don’t do it.”

“I have to.” She wiped at her cheeks and sniffled. “He’s not threatening me. He’s...” She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. “He’s got me over a barrel.”

Cecily stroked Aline’s hair. “You’ll make it work. You’re tough.”

Aline smiled and leaned against Cecily. “Not this time. There’s no way to fight what he’s threatening.”

“Then you got to ask yourself if what he’s asking is so bad. You can only choose to do it or not. Which one has consequences you can live with?”

She imagined Lisbet in the institution again and nearly broke down. She couldn’t tear the woman she loved away from her mother, left imprisoned in a foreign country. And where would Aline be in that scenario? Knowing she’d left Lisbet to that fate? She’d most likely end up in the bathtub with a razor blade at her wrist. There was no question what she would do, regardless of the sour taste it would leave in her mouth.

She would have to be a villain.


	11. Chapter 11

When Aline got home, she tried to distract herself but all of her coping mechanisms reminded her of Lisbet. After she had time to process her horror, she became irrationally angry at Lisbet’s mother. How hard could it be to get documented? Would it have been such a hassle to enter the country legally? She almost instantly admonished herself for the thought. She didn’t know what sort of ordeal it was to emigrate from her homeland to someplace completely foreign. Inger wasn’t the villain and didn’t deserve her anger. 

She opened a deck of cards and set up a game of solitaire on the dinner table, hoping it would clear her mind and settle her emotions. She was halfway through the game, staring at the queen of diamonds without seeing it, when Lisbet came home. She wrestled her bicycle through the door, propped it against the wall, and went into the kitchen.

“Hello, Ally.”

“Hi.” Aline stood up and joined Lisbet in the kitchen. She started to mention the god-awful turn of events but stopped when Lisbet turned on the sink and bent down to splash cold water on her face. She patted he eyes with her fingers and blotted her cheeks with a dish towel. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Lisbet said, but she revealed herself as a liar by sniffling.

Aline stepped up behind her and rested her hands on Lisbet’s shoulders. “You’re crying?”

“No, I just... I just, the dust in the apartments I clean, sometimes it gets in my eyes.”

Aline said, “Or you could just tell me what’s bothering you.”

“Nothing.”

“Lisbet.”

“I...” She rested her hands on the sink and hung her head. “Seventeen dollars went missing from a room I cleaned. I said that I didn’t even see it, and they didn’t find anything in my bag, but they couldn’t prove I hadn’t taken it. So they’re taking it out of my pay.” Tears slipped free from both eyes and rolled down her cheeks. “I don’t know what I’m going do.”

“Yes, you do. You’re going to stay here with me. You’re going to let me take care of you.”

Lisbet shook her head. “No. It’s too much. I can’t even buy food.”

“I can. Look at me, Lis.” When she didn’t look, Aline touched her cheek and forced her to turn her head. “I will always take care of you. No matter what. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe. I swear it to you.” She lightly kissed Lisbet’s lips and felt the tension seeping out of her shoulders.

“I love you, Aline.”

“I love you, too.” She squeezed. “Do you want me to rub your back?”

Lisbet shook her head. “No. But... maybe a bath?”

“Okay. I’ll draw the bath. You go lie down while I’m getting it ready.” She pecked Lisbet’s cheek and pulled away from her with a whispered promise that she would be right back. She went into the bathroom, rolled up her sleeve, and perched on the edge of the bathtub. She started running the water and dipped her hand under the faucet to test the temperature. 

In one unexpected crisis, her own problems had gone by the wayside. She meant exactly what she’d said. She would go to any length to keep Lisbet safe, even if it meant making a deal with the devil.

When the tub was full she went to get Lisbet. They undressed each other, and then Aline got into the water. Lisbet settled against her, and Aline embraced her tightly from behind. Lisbet sighed with content and drew the water up over Aline’s arms.

Lisbet relaxed enough that her true feelings came out. “I hate them. These people I work for, I clean for. They just see me as some girl, and my accent... I’m some foreigner they can treat like an animal. They accuse me of stealing. I’ve worked hard my whole life. I’ve never stolen a thing from anybody. I’d go hungry before I stole.”

Aline kissed Lisbet’s temple and stroked the curve of her breast. Lisbet moaned appreciatively.

“Thank you for not being like them, Ally.”

“You’re welcome.” She kissed the curve of Lisbet’s cheek. “I got a job offer today. It means I’ll get a pay raise. And that means I can cover for you not getting paid until you’ve made up that debt.”

“I couldn’t. Then I would be indebted to you.”

“That’s not how this works, darling. I do it for you because I’d do it for myself. I love you and I can’t bear to see you suffering.”

Lisbet sighed. She twisted between Aline’s legs, kneeling in the tub and bracing her hands on the wall behind Aline’s head. Aline put her hands on Lisbet’s hips and looked up at her, smiling as the younger woman settled against her. The confines of the tub forced Lisbet’s thighs to be tight around Aline’s hips, but Aline didn’t mind. Water dripped from Lisbet’s body as she settled herself, then reached up to brush the hair out of her face. Once she was in position Aline moved her hands to the small of her back and rested them just above her ass, right where the water line gently lapped against her curves.

“I will repay you,” Lisbet whispered, “with my love and my heart.”

Aline smiled and leaned forward to kiss Lisbet’s chest. “Sounds like a swell bargain.”

Lisbet kissed the top of Aline’s hair. “I love you so much.”

The water splashed around them as Lisbet began to thrust, neither of them caring as it spilled over onto the floor. Aline pressed back against the curve of the tub, her feet flat against the opposite side as she pushed up to meet Lisbet. In her short sexual history Lisbet had managed to become something of a savant when it came to making Aline climax quickly. She moved her hands to Aline’s chest and rested them there, murmuring in Danish as she watched Aline’s face to gauge her speed.

“Do you want to come?” Lisbet whispered in Danish.

“ _Bedes, bedes,_ ” Aline grunted, eyes tightly shut, fingers digging into the soft flesh of Lisbet’s rear end. Her toes curled under the water and Lisbet lowered her head to kiss Aline’s closed eyes. Aline slid her hands up to the middle of Lisbet’s back to pull her down, and Lisbet dropped her head to line up their lips for a post-orgasm kiss. She kissed along Aline’s cheek to her ear.

“You are the best person I know. You are filled with goodness.”

Aline closed her eyes to fight her tears. “What if I do something bad for a good reason?”

“You won’t.” Before Aline could argue, Lisbet continued. “You are a strong woman. Brave, too. Too strong to give in to badness.”

“Sometimes it’s not a choice, honey.” She stroked Lisbet’s hair. “Murder is wrong. But I’d kill to protect you.”

Lisbet moved from Aline’s ear to nibble her neck. “That is not bad. Or evil. That is doing whatever you can to protect goodness.”

Aline sighed. “I wish it was that easy.”

Lisbet sat up and looked at her. “There is something bad you have to do.”

“Yes.”

Lisbet scooped her hand in the water and brought it up, letting it dribble over Aline’s face. It felt so much like a baptism that Aline almost sobbed. 

“Then you do what you must... but you find the good in it. You find a way to make it count. You will kill to save my life. What is the goodness that can come from the evil bad thing you have to do?”

Aline shook her head. “Nothing. There’s...” A line appeared between her eyebrows and she looked past Lisbet to focus on the wall. “Oh...”

Lisbet smiled. “Strong and brave and smart.”

“You’re a genius, Lis.” She cupped her face and sat up to kiss her hard. “I think you just saved my life.”

“Excellent. What is my reward?”

Aline tilted her head and smiled, bringing up one finger to trace Lisbet’s bottom lip. “I think it’s a reward for both of us. How long can you hold your breath?”

“Not very long, I’m afraid.”

Aline let her thumb slip past Lisbet’s teeth, onto her tongue. Lisbet closed her lips around it and sucked, eyes locked on Aline.

“Then I guess we should adjourn to the bed.”

Lisbet rolled her hips. “Perhaps in a moment...?”

Aline stifled a moan, her eyes rolling back. “A moment would be good...”

#

She and Lisbet made love in bed until it was time for dinner. Lisbet made them a meal out of leftovers and they ate together on the floor under the window. From that position they could see a sliver of sky, and it was worth the discomfort to see the stars come out. Aline fixated on Lisbet’s feet, her mended gray socks that pooled around her ankles and pouched at her toes. She reached out and stroked her calf, up toward the hem of her skirt and then back down. Lisbet only smiled at the attention, slumping to put her head on Aline’s shoulder.

“What is the bad thing? Can you tell me?”

“No. It’s not important.” She also didn’t want Lisbet to feel guilty or responsible for the decision she’d made. “But thank you for listening and helping me through it.”

Lisbet nodded. “Thank you for helping me. I didn’t know what Mama and I would do. We might even have had to go home to Denmark.”

“Don’t even joke about that.” She kissed Lisbet’s forehead. “When can I meet her?”

“Mama?” She looked up. “You want to meet her?”

“She deserves to know who her little girl is living with, right?”

Lisbet smiled. “She will love you very much. Perhaps nearly as much as I do. She was very surprised that you were a woman and that we were together, but she says if I am happy then she will not judge. But I think she would very much like to meet you.”

“We’ll find a time that works for us, then.”

She stood up and held out her hand to hoist Lisbet up. They took their dishes into the kitchen and washed them. 

“I think I will go to bed early,” Lisbet said. “My head aches from all the stress of today.”

“I hope I helped a little.”

Lisbet kissed her. “You cured me. But sleep will be good. Come with me.”

“I’d love to, but I need to do some work.”

“The bad thing?”

Aline nodded. “Yeah. Might as well get it out of the way as soon as I can.”

Lisbet kissed her again. “Okay. Don’t be gone too long or I will get lonely.”

Aline smiled. “Can’t have that.”

She took Lisbet’s hand and led her into the bedroom, helping her undress before tucking her into bed. She kissed Lisbet on the forehead and the tip of the nose.

“I’ll be back in about an hour.”

“Wake me up when you come back.”

Aline nodded and turned off the overhead light on her way out of the apartment. She walked to the streetcar stop. As she waited she took out a small notebook and began jotting down thoughts so she wouldn’t forget them during the journey. The handful of postprandial passengers were lethargic and quiet as the car rattled along its tracks to the public library. 

She disembarked in front of the tall and quiet building. It was open all night but she had to show identification to the guard on duty before she was allowed into the stacks. She searched for records, census logs, anything that could lead her to residents of the city twenty and thirty years earlier. When she had all the books she could carry she took them into a quiet reading room and stacked them in front of her. She put her notes to one side where she could address them and add information as she found it, and she pulled the first book close.

All she had was a name and a vague idea of a location in the city. She didn’t know how much of the city’s layout had changed post-fire but she hoped it was close enough that she could extrapolate an old map to the current street plan. She knew that her plan was sketchy at best, and its chances of success were incredibly low. But Lisbet was right... she didn’t have any other choice but to follow through with Iverson’s plan. She could only hope to find a way to do what he wanted without setting Carapace up for the fall. She had to report to Iverson but she could ask Carapace what information she wanted to be shared. It would be like the trap she’d set in the empty warehouse. Disinformation and subterfuge, acting the traitor while serving as a double agent.

But she couldn’t even begin to work both sides unless she found a way to bring Carapace into the lie. She could either wait for the superheroine to make another appearance, or she could be proactive. She could go directly to the source.

She had to find Isaiah McKeon.


	12. Chapter 12

Iverson expected Aline to take a leave of absence from the paper to serve as his personal source of Carapace information, so she had to make use of her employment while she could. She chose Saturday morning to make her visit, knowing it was the quietest day of the week and only a skeleton staff would be present. She went up to the offices and saw that, of course, S.O. Finn was at her station as usual. She looked up when Aline entered and blinked in surprise when she saw who it was. She stood and met Aline halfway across the bullpen.

“What are you doing here?”

“I need to look at the archives again.”

Finn crossed her arms over her chest. “What is it this time?”

“I need to find pre-fire property records.”

One blonde eyebrow rose. “You’re not going to find them here. Almost all of our pre-fire records went up in smoke like everything else.”

Aline’s shoulders sagged. The library had been a bust, so she hoped the newspaper could provide the link she needed. 

“Who are you trying to find?”

“I can’t say. It’s a personal project.”

“Then I couldn’t let you use the archives anyway. What’s going on, Aline? Is this something to do with your next Carapace article?”

Aline shook her head. “No. In fact, I might not be writing Carapace articles anymore.”

“Says who?”

“It’s complicated.” She touched Finn’s sleeve. “I need to find any records of property ownership from before the fire. Please. It’s a matter of life and death.”

Finn’s steely demeanor wavered. She looked over her shoulder to see if anyone would witness her show of humanity, then guided Aline back to the stairwell.

“What is going on?”

“I can’t tell you.”

Finn widened her eyes and pressed her lips together in a firm line. “We’re not leaving this stairwell until you tell me why you look so het up. What do you mean you’re not writing Carapace articles anymore? Says who?”

“Says me.”

“Something’s happened. Something big. Tell me... the mayor? You went to see the mayor and now this. Did he tell you to stop writing about Carapace? He can’t do that. He doesn’t have any authority over what we print--”

Aline clapped her hand over Finn’s mouth. Fnn’s eyes widened in horror, and Aline was only too aware of what Finn would have done if it was anyone else’s hand. She would have pulled it back a few fingers short.

“Sydney Olivia, I’m begging you. Let this go.”

The anger in Finn’s eyes faded, replaced by concern. She had only revealed her true name one night after having too much to drink. She had been angry at herself, embarrassed she’d let the secret go when she’d fought so hard to keep it over the years. She tried to avoid Aline, tried excising her from her life. Instead Aline had gone to her apartment and revealed she was a lesbian. It was an unspoken agreement they would never use the information against one another, and using the name now revealed just how dire the situation was.

When Aline pulled her hand away, Finn said, “What do you need?”

“I need to know if a man named Isaiah McKeon owned property in 1889, and I need to know where it would be on a modern map.”

Finn chewed on her bottom lip. “Okay. You have to go to the county assessor’s office. They might have had records that survived the fire. I know someone there. I’ll give him a call so he knows you’re coming. Aline, whatever this is, promise me you’ll get out if it gets dangerous.”

Aline laughed and sagged forward. She put her head on Finn’s shoulder, and Finn pulled her close in an uncharacteristic hug. “Thank you, S.O.”

“Only for you. And if you ever full-name me again, I’ll chop you off at the knees.”

Aline laughed. “Sorry.”

“Let me know if you need any more help, okay?”

“Yeah. Promise. Uh, the assessor’s office.”

“Do you need directions?”

Aline shook her head. “No. It’s in one of the buildings behind City Hall. I’ll find it. What’s your friend’s name?”

“Marcus. He’ll find you.”

“Okay. S.O., thank you.”

“Promise to tell me what this is all about when things settle down?”

“I’ll tell you everything I can.”

Finn considered it and then accepted the deal with a nod. “Stay safe.”

“I will.”

Aline headed downstairs. Lisbet was at work and had no idea what Aline was up to. If she had her way, Lisbet would never know she and her mother had been in danger. She didn’t want Inger to think she owed a debt; she wanted to earn the older Dahl’s respect and approval on her own merits. She kept a keen eye on the rooftops as she walked, looking down only to make sure she didn’t bump into people or step in front of a carriage. She wanted to spot Carapace, wanted to make her search for McKeon moot, but the superhero was stubbornly absent as she crossed town. 

#

When Aline got home, she was frustrated and in a wholly foul mood. Finn’s friend at the assessor’s office hadn’t been willing to shirk his duties to help her so she’d been forced to wait until he had some free time. That didn’t happen until five o’clock when the work day actually ended. They found two residences registered to Isaiah McKeon that dated to 1875, but it was too dark for her to investigate either of them. As an apology for making her wait Marcus provided her with a map of the city before the fire and another of the modern layout. She had examined them on the streetcar as best she could in the dying light, and she was astonished at the difference. In just twenty short years the city had expanded on all possible sides, spreading like a wildfire into neighboring areas. It was little wonder criminals had been able to thrive for so long without being stopped. The city was a locomotive churning forward with no time to stop and pick up the dropped pieces.

Lisbet was lying in bed reading when Aline got home, and she quickly shoved the book under the pillow when the door opened. “There you are. I’ve been worried.”

“I’m sorry. I should have left a note, but I had no idea I’d be gone so long.” She leaned against the wall to take off her shoes. “What are you reading?”

“Oh, it’s nothing. It’s silliness.”

Aline went to the bed and reached across Lisbet to retrieve the hidden book. Lisbet tried to distract her by ticking her midsection, but Aline simply squirmed and evaded. She turned the book over and looked at the cover. “ _The Wind in the Willows_. I’ve heard of this. Why did you hide it?”

“It’s embarrassing. It’s for children.”

Aline crawled over Lisbet and scooted back against the headboard. “Some of the best fiction is written for children. Adult stuff is full of all sorts of nonsense. How far are you?”

Lisbet cuddled close and put her head on Aline’s shoulder. She reached for the book and turned it to the page she was on. “Not very far.”

“Do you want me to read to you?”

“No. I’m trying to be better at reading English. I can speak it well, but reading...” She sighed. “If I want to be a writer I cannot be illiterate.”

Aline said, “That’s true. So you read to me.”

“You’ve been out all day. You probably want to eat first.”

“No, I’m fine. We can read to the end of the chapter at least.”

Lisbet said, “I’ll probably be slow and mess up a lot.”

“That’s fine.”

“Okay...” She rearranged herself so she could see the page better. When she found the spot where she’d left off she began to read aloud.

#

After reading and dinner, they undressed and got back into bed. Lisbet fell asleep almost immediately. Aline spooned her from behind and listened to the rhythm of her breathing. Mayor Iverson hadn’t specified when he wanted the information about Carapace, but she assumed she would keep to the same schedule of delivering on Tuesdays. It didn’t give her much time to track down Isaiah and set up a meeting with Carapace to work out what their plan would be. She knew that if push came to shove she would give Iverson accurate information. When it came to a choice between Carapace and Lisbet, there was no question which one she would protect.

She was on the edge of drifting off when she heard a clatter outside. There usually wasn’t much point in paying attention to every overturned trash can or rattle of the fire escape. If it wasn’t someone sneaking out for a smoke, it was a stray cat or some crime they were better off not getting involved with. That thought made her ashamed enough that she lifted her head and looked toward the window just to have the semblance of caring.

Someone was standing on the fire escape outside her window, stooping slightly to look through the glass.

Aline’s breath caught in her throat and her entire body tensed. She clapped a hand over her mouth and silenced the cry of alarm, realizing a heartbeat later that the silhouette was wearing a long overcoat and a gas mask.

 _Carapace_.

Lisbet stirred, pulled from her slumber by Aline’s startle. She murmured for her mother, and Aline turned to stroke her hair and shush her back to sleep with a quick reassurance in Danish that everything was all right. The tension faded from her lover, and Aline pecked her on the temple and slipped carefully away from her. She looked at the figure in the window and gestured upward toward the roof. She thought she saw the head nod, and then the woman turned and began to ascend.

Aline put on her boots and threw a jacket over her nightgown. She looked at the bed once more to make certain Lisbet had gone back to sleep before she left the apartment.

Carapace was waiting for her on the flat part of the roof, a sliver of black against the night. Behind her the moon illuminated the flat, dark expanse of the Puget Sound. There were ships out there, lit and slowly traveling toward the harbor. Aline tugged the halves of her robe tighter around her and approached the superhero cautiously.

“I’m sorry.”

“What for?” Her voice was the same hollow, manufactured noise it always was, but something about it tonight seemed more human. Without a clear view of the mask or the costume Aline found it easier to believe Carapace was just an ordinary person.

“I’ve been invading your privacy. Trying to find you. I wouldn’t have done it unless it was for a good cause, and it is.”

“And what would that be?”

Aline sighed and explained everything that she’d been through; Stringer and Iverson, the ‘job’ offer, their threat against Lisbet.

“Lisbet is the... the woman I saw you with?”

“The woman who was sleeping on my divan,” Aline said, unable to admit the truth in front of a woman whose name she didn’t even know.

Carapace nodded. “Right. Her.”

“You understand why I have to do it. I can let Iverson destroy her life.”

“No, you can’t. She has nothing to do with me. I’d never let her suffer. Thank you for warning me. I knew Iverson was planning something but I didn’t know what it was.” She stepped toward the edge of the roof.

Aline moved closer to stop her. “Wait! That’s not all I have to say. I’m going to tell them what I know, but you can be sure I only know what you want me to know. Like what you did with the warehouse address. You told them where to be and set up an ambush. Only this time I promise I won’t get in the way and bungle things up.”

“That’s a dangerous game to play,” Carapace said. “If they find out you’re lying to them, things could be worse for you.”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there. We don’t have the luxury of coming up with a perfect plan. Stringer’s a rock rolling down a hill and we’re just doing whatever we can to stop it and protect people. For now, working together to feed Iverson and Stringer just enough information they can hang themselves.”

“That puts a lot of pressure on me.”

Aline grinned. “I have faith in you. The whole city does.”

“It will only take one failure to erase all that goodwill.”

Aline didn’t know how to respond to that. Finally she said, “Hopefully you’re showing us the way. You’re proving we don’t have to just accept the way things are. You can’t fail because you’ve already succeeded.”

Carapace sighed, her shoulders rolling with the movement as she looked off the edge of the building. “Thank you. For that, and for warning me about Mayor Iverson’s plan.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to think about that. I’ll be in touch.” She went to the fire escape and climbed down. Aline waited until she was gone before she went back inside. She passed the apartment where Ginny lived with her mother. She eased open the door to her apartment and glanced at the bed to see it was empty. She gave up the pretense of quiet and looked around.

“Lisbet?”

“Ally?”

She followed the voice to the far corner of the bedroom. Lisbet had pulled the blankets off the bed and had them gathered around her. Aline frowned and crouched next to her, smoothing the hair back away from her face.

“Lis, what...”

“You were late. And then you were gone.” She sniffled and wiped at her face. “When my brother... when he...” She squeezed her eyes shut. “He was just gone, too. We didn’t know where he was. And he just... never came home.”

Aline hugged her. “Oh, sweetheart. I’m sorry. I just had to go outside for a second. I didn’t think you’d wake up. I’m sorry. Sorry, darling.”

Lisbet clung tightly to her. “I can’t lose you, Aline.”

“You won’t.” Aline sank onto the floor and pulled Lisbet to her. “I promise. We’ll be together whatever it takes.” She rocked Lisbet until she was calm enough to get back into bed, looking at the empty window and hoping she could follow through on the promise.


	13. Chapter 13

Over the weekend she received a letter from Mayor Iverson’s office telling her to expect a messenger on Wednesday. She spent three days preparing an article exactly as she would for the paper, but she didn’t rewrite it in the proper format. If it was only going to be seen by Stringer or Iverson, she wasn’t going to waste time prettifying it. It was noon when there was a knock on the door, and she sighed as she stood to answer it.

She recognized the messenger as Mordecai Stringer’s driver, a blonde woman with a French-sounding name. She wasn’t wearing goggles or the hat, so her short wavy hair was pinned back on either side. The woman’s name, Sabine, popped into her head just before she spoke.

“Good morning. Sabine, was it?”

“Do you have what Mr. Stringer requested?”

Aline raised an eyebrow. “No small talk?” Sabine stared. “Yes, I have it right here.” She turned to go inside and retrieve it, but Sabine entered the apartment behind her and shut the door. “I don’t recall inviting you in. How did you even know where I lived?”

“Mr. Stringer knows who shares your bed. Did you think he wouldn’t know where that bed is located?” She looked toward the furniture in question. “And where is your little tart?”

“Working.”

“I didn’t realize those girls worked in the daytime.”

Aline took a steadying breath. “She’s a housekeeper.”

Sabine laughed. It was an ugly sound. “Is that what she tells you? Sweet little foreign girl, not a dime to her name, and she goes to people’s homes and hotels and she... cleans. It’s a nice fairy tale, I suppose. And it’s quaint that you believed her.”

“She’s not a whore.”

“I’m sure she was a virgin when you met her.”

Aline bit back the response. She picked up the piece of paper and held it out to Sabine. “Here you go. This week’s pound of flesh.”

Sabine skimmed the page, flipped it to see that the back was blank, and then read the front again. She looked up at Aline. 

“This is it?”

Aline shrugged. “Slow week. No new Carapace sightings.”

“You always managed to have a whole column for the newspaper.”

“I gussied those up. Plumped them up when I didn’t have enough content to fill the space. Trickery to fill room when we don’t have enough story to tell. We still have to sell papers even if nothing’s going on. But this isn’t about money. So you get the bare bones.”

Sabine nodded and folded the paper three times. She slid the long sheet into her coat and removed an envelope that likely contained the check from Mayor Iverson. Her blood money. She sat it on the counter and then scanned the apartment. Her gaze settled on Aline with a frankness that was alarming. 

“Did you learn to write from your father?”

The sudden shift in topic made Aline frown. “My father was a drunken lout.”

“Hum. So was mine. But that doesn’t mean you can’t learn something from him. I learned a lot of things from my father. He was a boxer.” 

The blow to her stomach was so sudden and unexpected that Aline was on one knee almost before her brain registered what had happened. 

“He taught me how to hit people where the bruises wouldn’t show. His lessons were tough.” She kicked Aline in the side, knocking her into the table. “But no one ever questioned me. High collars, long sleeves. He always said the reason women are so covered up all the time is that no one can see where she disobeyed her husband.” She grabbed a handful of Aline’s hair and hauled her up onto a stool. She forced her to sit, then gripped her shoulders with both hands and looked into her eyes. “You’ll get more information for next week’s packet, won’t you?”

Aline could only nod, holding her stomach and trying to draw breath without stressing her bruised muscles.

“Good. Because I bet your little doxy’s Nordic skin bruises really well. I wouldn’t bother to hide what I do to her. Couple of black eyes, split lip... hard to find someone to hire a ‘maid’ in that condition. I’m sure Mr. Stringer will let you slide this week because you’re new at this and you didn’t know what he expected. That’s why I was nice and made sure you wouldn’t have anything to explain. But I’m not nice twice. Understood?”

“Yes.”

Sabine smiled. “Good.” She patted Aline on the shoulders, then smoothed her hands over the wrinkled blouse. “I’ll see you next week.”

The woman let herself out. Aline remained upright until she heard footsteps on the stairs, determined to maintain a little bit of dignity. Finally, only when she was positive Sabine wouldn’t return and see her, Aline cried out quietly and slid off the stool. She clutched her stomach with both hands and knelt on the floor, hunching forward and squeezing herself tightly.

After a few seconds, maybe even a minute, she used the stool to push herself back up. Her stomach ached horribly, and her scalp burned where Sabine pulled it. She took a few deep breaths with her hands flat against her stomach. Eyes closed and chin up, she gingerly moved toward the bed so she could lie down until Lisbet got home.

Her drunken father had taught her some things as well. If she could get through eight hours of classes after being whupped with a belt, she could certainly deal with this. She would just tell Lisbet she had a stomach ache; it was close enough to the truth. She hugged her pillow to her chest and curled on top of the blankets in the fetal position.

When she felt better she would get up, and she would find a way to show Mordecai Stringer that threatening Lisbet was only going to make her all the more determined to take him down.

#

By the time Lisbet got home that afternoon, Aline had recovered enough to act normally. She checked her stomach in the bathroom mirror and was relieved to see it hadn’t bruised. She told Lisbet she had accidentally walked into the back of a chair to explain away any tenderness. Lisbet responded by bending down and gently kissing her through her shirt, and Aline had smiled down at her. Lisbet cooked her dinner, some pasta in a light sauce, and off-handedly mentioned that she’d spoken to her mother.

“She very much wants to meet you. She has tickets to the theater on Friday. Will you come with us? We could have dinner before we go so we can allget to know one another.”

“That sounds delightful. Tell her I’ll be there.”

When the day arrived she found herself harried and anxious about making a good impression. She put on a fine silk blouse and slacks, then traded the slacks for a skirt to look more traditional. The blouse didn’t match the skirt so she put on her best dress. Unfortunately it was more of a summer look and they were well into fall. Lisbet came home to find her in a chemise and half-slip, examining her closet for some magical combination that would make her look perfect.

Lisbet chuckled quietly and effortlessly retrieved a pale blue cotton blouse and matching skirt. She held them up in front of Aline and nodded.

“She will love this.”

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

They kissed, and Aline took the clothes so she could begin to dress. “How was work today?”

“It was...” She thought for a moment, searching for a new word. She liked to expand her vocabulary during their conversations. “It was monotonous and exhausting.”

Aline smiled. “Good words.”

“And you?”

Aline shook her head. “I don’t like my new job. I’d rather be working at the paper, facing a deadline for a fraction of the money. I’d be poorer, but at least I could live with myself.” She had told Lisbet everything about Iverson’s offer but drew the line at admitting why she eventually agreed. She didn’t want Lisbet to feel responsible. If the time came when Lisbet wanted to break up, Aline didn’t want her to stay out of obligation. The thought of losing her made Aline pause, and she watched as Lisbet chose her own outfit. 

“I’m glad I broke my arm.”

Lisbet looked at her. “What?”

“It brought you to me.”

“If I’d known you were looking, or that you’d have wanted me, I would have saved you the doctor bills.”

Aline grinned. She cupped the back of Lisbet’s head and pulled her close for a kiss. They finished getting ready and departed for the restaurant where Inger was supposed to be meeting them. Lisbet warned Aline that, knowing her mother, she had probably arrived half an hour early just to make them apologize for making her wait. 

“She is very... punctilious?”

Aline laughed. “I think you mean punctual, but that works.”

Sure enough the hostess led them to a table where an older, more severe version of Lisbet was waiting with a book open in front of her. She used a piece of ribbon to mark her place and stood up to greet them.

“Mama,” Lisbet said in Danish, pecking her mother on the cheek. “I thought we said six.”

“We did.” She made no comment about the fact they were actually five minutes early, and looked at Aline. “This is her?”

“Yes, Mama.” She switched to English. “Aline Macrae Whyte, this is my mama, Inger Dahl.”

Aline nodded and held out her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Dahl.”

“She doesn’t look like much,” Inger said in Danish.

Aline and Lisbet exchanged a look, deciding without speaking that they wouldn’t reveal Aline understood what she was saying.

“Shall we sit?” Aline said.

They settled in and examined the menus, with Inger gently and subtly probing Aline for information about her job and her family. Her father and two brothers, three drunkards cut from the same cloth, lived somewhere in California. Lisbet revealed that her father had been a famous criminal in Denmark. In thirty years of crime, he was never arrested. Shot eighteen times, however, with the last bullet killing him moments after he robbed a nightclub. 

“God, I’m sorry.”

Lisbet shrugged. “He was a bad man, but good to us. That is why I care so much about the, um, Carapace. It is very exciting to wonder what would have happened if Carapace stopped Daddy instead of a policeman.”

Inger made a moue of disgust. “Feh, superheroes. Drivel. It’s all fluff and nonsense.”

“Mama,” Lisbet warned.

“You’ve never seen her! I think it’s all fictions to sell papers.”

“No one asked your opinion, mama,” Lisbet muttered in Danish.

“If I waited to be asked, I would never get to say.”

Lisbet arched an eyebrow.

“Ungrateful.” Inger swatted Lisbet’s fingers with a napkin.

“Not in front of Aline.”

Aline pressed her lips together and looked down at her plate. She remembered a dinner where her father had slapped her mother across the face in a crowded restaurant. The tears in her mother’s eyes, and the bloom of red blood on her napkin as the waiter civilly asked if there was anything else they needed, were moments engraved on her mind’s eye. A little swat from a napkin was child’s play, but she said nothing. 

“Lisbet tells me that you’re helping her write her stories.”

“Mostly just the language,” Aline said. “She doesn’t need my help for anything else. She’s very talented.”

“Mm.”

Their food arrived, and Aline was grateful for the distraction. They lapsed into silence, but Aline felt Lisbet’s foot tap against hers. She slipped off her shoe without looking up from her foot, and her stockinged foot slid over Lisbet’s ankle.

“I don’t approve.”

“Mama!” Lisbet snapped, then shifted to Danish. “We agreed we wouldn’t talk about this tonight, Mama.”

“Well, I’m sorry,” Inger said in English. “I don’t want her to think I approve of something that I think is disgusting and wrong.” Now she shifted to Danish. “I think it’s shameful you’re doing this, Lisbet. You’re wasting time playing with this girl when you could be looking for a man.”

“I don’t want a man. I never wanted a man.”

“You never said that before you met this one.”

“I didn’t know what I wanted until I found her.”

Inger sighed heavily and picked up the napkin from her lap. She dabbed at her lips and tossed the cloth onto the table next to her plate.

“You can never marry this girl. You can’t even acknowledge you’re a couple in public. What possible life could you ever have with her?”

“My own kind of life, instead of a repeat of yours.”

Inger’s lips pressed tighter together, and Aline had to look away or reveal she could understand every word they were saying. She blinked away her tears as Inger pushed her chair back and stood up. Their table had now gathered the attention of everyone else in the restaurant, and their waiter seemed to be debating whether he should intervene.

“She’ll be bored with you soon, and you’ll have to make up for lost time.”

Lisbet stood as well. “You have no idea what she’s done for us.”

Aline looked up at that. Could Lisbet have somehow discovered her pact with Iverson?

“The seventeen dollars you took,” Lisbet said. “The money blamed on me. The money that you let them take out of my paycheck. Aline helped me. She has made sure I have food and that I am taken care of. You put me in that situation and she saved me. Don’t you dare say she doesn’t care for me when she’s proven her love more than you ever have.”

Aline finally broke her silence and, in Danish, said, “I do love your daughter, Mrs. Dahl. You have no idea the lengths I would take to ensure her safety, or to make her feel comfortable. And that includes walking out of here with her if it helps her breathe. Lis, do you need some fresh air?”

Lisbet nodded. 

“Excuse us.” Aline stood up, put her arm around Lisbet, and guided her past the onlookers. They went outside to the parking lot. She embraced Lisbet, who clutched the back of Aline’s shirt and held tightly to her.

“I really thought she would be different tonight,” Lisbet whispered.

Aline nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry. She was horrible to you.”

“I’m more worried about how she was to you.”

Lisbet sniffled and shrugged. “The wrong child was killed.”

Aline winced. “Never say that.”

“She says that. She loved my brother more. It was never hidden. I knew. Brother had prospects and hope. He would have married beautiful American girl and given many grandchildrens.”

Aline whispered, “Honey, your English is slipping.”

Lisbet closed her eyes, nodded her gratitude, and settled her mind before she continued. “I’m just a maid, like her. An extra set of hands. And when I find someone to love, I find a woman. She is disappointed and disappointed and disappointed over and over with me.”

She was close to tears, so Aline kissed her just under her eyes. Lisbet folded against her, hands curling into fists in the middle of Aline’s back.

“You don’t need to face that every night. Go back to your apartment, get your things, and bring them to my apartment.”

“There’s no room.”

“How much room do we need?” Aline asked. “We could always make a little nest in the corner and cuddle all day long.”

Lisbet lifted her head. “You want me to live with you?”

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Lis. Living in the same house is just a detail. You don’t have to say yes. I just want you to know it’s an option.”

“Yes,” Lisbet said. “Yes, yes. Thank you.”

Aline laughed. “You’re welcome.”

Lisbet looked around them and whispered, “I wish I could kiss you.”

“Keep that thought alive until later.” She nuzzled Lisbet’s cheek. “Do you think you can go back inside and finish dinner now?”

“Yes. But I think we will be skipping the theatre.”

Aline chuckled. “I think that would be best.” She laced her fingers with Lisbet’s. “Together. Right?”

“Yes. Together.”

Aline squeezed Lisbet’s hand before she led her back inside.


	14. Chapter 14

Aline arrived at Mayor Iverson’s office bright and early the following Monday, her second report safely secured in her shoulder bag. Cecily looked up from her typewriter and smiled. “Good morning, Miss Whyte. Lovely to see you again. Coffee?”

“Sure. I’ll help you.”

They moved to the coffee station and began going through the motions of coffee prep. Cecily spoke in a hushed voice. “Mordecai Stringer has been spending an awful lot of time here lately.”

“Oh?”

“I just thought it might be something you’d be interested in.”

Aline looked at her and then shrugged. “I just report on Carapace.”

“Seems like your reports go straight through here and into Stringer’s hands. He’s mixed up in all of this. He’s after Carapace.”

Aline put her hand on top of Cecily’s. “Don’t get involved. Please. These fellows are hard as nails and they ain’t above hurting a woman if she gets in the way.”

“They’ve hurt you?”

“That’s not important. Just promise me you won’t snoop for my benefit. I know we had an arrangement for a long time, and it may be hard to just stop. But this isn’t the sort of thing I want you tangled up in. Just keep yourself safe.”

“Okay. What about you? Who is keeping you safe?”

Aline blew air past her lips and shook her head, but she was saved from answering by the mayor’s office door opening. He stepped out and smiled at the women.

“Ah, Miss Whyte. Punctual as usual. I hope you have something a little meatier than last week.”

“I have what you want.” Aline nodded at Cecily that she wouldn’t need the coffee, then went into the mayor’s office. He shut the door behind her and waited as she unfastened her bag to retrieve the papers. She had managed to fill three pages with information about Carapace’s movements, the majority of it provided by Carapace herself.

They met on the rooftop of Aline’s building on Saturday night. Aline made sure to wake Lisbet just enough to tell her she was going out for some fresh air and promised she’d be back in a little while. In the freezing open air, using the moon for light, Aline took notes while Carapace detailed places she had been and where she planned to be in the following week. Aline didn’t know how much of it, if any, was fiction. She recorded it verboten and typed it up in a bullet-point format. She wasn’t going to expend any of her creative energy on making it easier for her enemies to read.

Iverson took the papers from her with a nod of thanks as he skimmed the first page.

“I presume this means you won’t send your bully to collect this week.”

He cocked his head as if genuinely confused. “I’m not sure what you mean. If Ms. Reynaud was a bit heavy-handed, I would like to formally apologize.”

Aline snorted and crossed her arms over her chest. “How long you think this little game is going to continue? Am I gonna be following Carapace around for the rest of my life?”

Iverson smiled. “Oh, I’m sure your commitment to this topic will be short-lived.”

That struck her as ominous, but she didn’t react. “Can I go?”

“Of course. Thank you for your help. You’ve done a great service for this city.”

“Right. How exactly is lining your own pockets good for the city?”

He looked at her. “Quite simple, really. I have the city’s best interest at heart, and I do what I can to ensure it continues to grow and thrive. The Expo brought thousands of people to town, and those people spent their money here. We can use that money to improve roads and schools, to erect new buildings and maintain the infrastructure we already have. There are elements who would come in here and destroy everything we’ve worked so hard to build. I help those who help us.”

“So you’re saying we’re bound to be infested with something, we just have to choose whether we want rats or termites.”

He smiled. “I’m saying that corruption is to be expected in any enterprise. If we can control it...”

“And profit from it.”

“Then all the better.”

Aline rolled her eyes. “You and the people you’re working with will be the downfall of this city. You can mark my words.”

“Trust me, I will.” He tapped her report. “You can show yourself out.”

She stepped past him and returned to the waiting room. Cecily had returned to her desk, and she looked up as Cecily came out.

“Are you okay?”

“Do yourself a favor, Cecily. Find a new job.”

Cecily said, “Try and keep your head up, Aline. Carapace...”

Aline held up a hand and shook her head. At the moment she wasn’t thinking too favorably of the superhero, either. She was one half of the problem, just one of the pieces playing their game on a grand scale. In the end it wouldn’t be Iverson or Carapace who paid the price for their conflicts. It was going to be people like her, Lisbet, Ginny, Cecily, Finn... the ordinary people just trying to do their jobs in a city that seemed intent on devouring itself every few years.

#

Aline dreamt of flying over the city, tangled in ropes under an airship with her hands and feet free. She knew in real life she would have been terrified, but in the dream it felt liberating. She flew across the bay, following the line where the water met the land. Ships of every description butted up to the harbor like suckling piglets. To her left the city stretched toward the sky, gleaming and impressive in the night sky. It looked as if it had literally been carved from jade. 

She let go of the dream slowly, vaguely aware of movement and hushed conversation in the room. She recognized the voice as Lisbet’s, and there was no concern in it, so she slumbered on. Finally her brain decided to push her back to consciousness, and she blinked her eyes to focus on the shape kneeling beside her on the mattress. Lisbet hasn’t done her hair or dressed, but she’s wearing a misbuttoned black cardigan over her nightgown. She was grinning from ear to ear, and her eyes widened with expectation when she realized Aline was awake.

“You’re far too chipper for this early, Lis.”

“You have to promise you won’t be angry.”

Aline rolled onto her back and propped herself up. “Uh-oh.”

Lisbet handed her a telegram. “There was an opening at the newspaper because of your leave of absence, so I submitted something. Just a short story. Something to fill space. They’re going to print it on Friday!”

“What?” Aline read the telegram, which was from Eli Callere himself. “Elizabeth Hall? Who in the world is that?”

“Is me! I mean, it’s my pen name. I thought perhaps something less obviously foreign would be... better. You know?”

“Sure. I mean, that makes sense, I guess. Which part am I supposed to be mad about?”

“I took your job.”

Aline laughed and then cupped Lisbet’s face. “You’re a goof. I’m so proud of you, Lis.” She kissed her lips. “My beautiful little writer. Well done.”

“I don’t, it’s just a fictional thing, not real news. Some stupid thing...”

“It’s your first published story. I’m going to have it framed.”

Lisbet giggled gleefully. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you were submitting something?”

“What if they had said no? I couldn’t bear the humiliation.”

“Pshaw. It would have just made you like every other writer in the world.” She kicked back the blankets and got out of bed. “I wish you’d woke me earlier. I would have cooked you breakfast as a celebration. What do you want? Pancakes?”

“You burn pancakes.”

“It’s impossible to burn pancakes.”

“This is what I thought, too! But.”

Aline rolled her eyes. “You’re getting a big head.”

“Will you still love my big head when I am famous?”

“Oh, yes. It’ll be easier to see those eyes of yours.”

Lisbet laughed and followed Aline into the kitchen. The celebratory breakfast turned into a lesson in how to cook a proper breakfast. Lisbet had gotten a small payment for her story, and she wanted to deposit it in her bank account as early as possible. It had been a long time since she got paid for her housekeeping, due to still working off the missing seventeen dollars, and she wanted to feel like she was contributing something to the household budget.

After breakfast they dressed and went to the bank. On the way Lisbet looped her arm around Aline’s and clung to her side like a barnacle. 

“I’m acting like a child. I’ve had jobs before. This is not my first paycheck.”

“It’s your first paycheck for your dream job. That deserves a little giddiness.” She kissed Lisbet’s temple and guided her into the bank. The furnace was on, and the blast of heat felt welcome as they came inside and shed their gloves. They got in line to wait for a teller. 

“Are you going to tell your mother about it?”

“I don’t know. I think she’ll be offended I used a different name. She doesn’t think we should have to change just because we came to another country. Englishizing?”

“Anglicizing,” Aline said. “I don’t think anyone should force that one way or the other. If you like Lisbet, stay as Lisbet. But if you want to change...”

“Would you prefer Elizabeth?”

Aline thought for a moment. “I like Lisbet. If you change, I’d have to learn to say something else when we’re in bed together.”

“Ah!” Lisbet hissed, gripping Aline’s arm tighter. She giggled and looked around to see if anyone had overheard her. “You are bad.”

Aline grinned and put her arm around Lisbet’s waist. They were next in line for the teller, and Lisbet reached into her coat pocket for the check. One of the tellers, a woman with round tortoiseshell glasses hanging around her neck on a chain, craned her neck to look past the customer she was helping. She lifted her glasses to her face and frowned as she looked through the lenses.

“Well, what in the world.”

Before anyone could react to her quiet utterance, the front doors of the bank exploded inward. Lisbet shrieked and covered her head with both hands as Aline pulled her to one side. They ducked behind a waist-high wall that separated the main room from the row of offices along the north wall. The other customers in the bank scrambled for safety as the debris from the explosion settled. Aline lifted her head to peer over the wall and saw that a ragged hole had been cut around the bank’s front door. Dust filled the air like a low-hanging cloud, and through it walked a single person.

From her stride Aline assumed it was a woman, but there were no identifying features to confirm that theory. She wore a suit of black armor that covered her from throat to mid-thigh with joints cut out for ease of movement. The face was a smooth egg with a wide horizontal slit for her eyes, but those were hidden behind a pair of goggles. Her forearms were weighed down by twin-barreled guns, and she brought them up with barely any strain to sweep the room. Fire burst from the mouths of all four barrels, and Lisbet pulled Aline back to safety as plaster and wood shattered from the wall behind them.

“Everyone remain calm.” The voice was muffled and filtered through three teardrop-shaped cutouts on the lower half of the egg. “This will all be over shortly and you can go back to your normal lives. I don’t want to hurt any of you.”

The woman’s footsteps fell heavy on the tile floor, sounding even louder due to the sudden silence after the explosion she caused. She moved toward the front of the bank and turned on her heel to look into the corner where Aline and Lisbet had taken cover.

“This will end when your friend Carapace shows her face.”

Lisbet clutched Aline’s coat as the masked woman turned and walked away. “What does that mean?” she whispered frantically. “Is she planning to kill Carapace?”

“Sounds like she aims to do that, yeah,” Aline said.

“Who is she?”

Aline shook her head. The only thing she knew for certain was that if Carapace was Seattle’s first super hero, they had just met the city’s first super villain.


	15. Chapter 15

Aline remained on the floor with Lisbet, clutching her hand as the masked woman paced in a wide half-circle in front of the doors. Whenever someone from outside ventured too close to the destruction she sent them running with a blast from her mounted rifles. Aline craned her neck around the feeble protection their wall provided each time she heard the weapons. Each report rocked her back a bit, throwing her slightly off balance. She was good at correcting herself, however, and found her footing again without much effort.

She started to rise, but Lisbet tangled her hand in her sweater. “No, no. Don’t...”

“It’s okay. If she wanted to hurt us, she already would have.” She kissed Lisbet between the eyebrows, smoothed down her hair, and got to her feet. “Isn’t that right? You don’t want us dead. You want us to draw out Carapace.”

The expressionless face turned toward her. It was nearly the same mask Carapace wore, save for the color and a few details, but something about this woman’s lack of face came across as off-putting and wrong. She faced Aline fully, her arms down with smoke curling around the barrels.

“You didn’t blow the wall off a bank to be subtle. And you didn’t pick this one at random, either. You came here because I was here. Have you been following me?”

The villain didn’t say anything. 

“So you blow up a bank with a reporter inside. Isn’t too hard to conclude you want some publicity. You have a name? We’re gonna give you one anyway, so you might as well have a say in what people call you.”

“You can call me Stratagem.”

“Seems a little ridiculous, but why not. Okay, Stratagem. What’s your beef with Carapace?”

“She’s interfering with the natural order of things. What you call evil is actually the weak being culled from the herd. It’s pruning away the dead branches so the rest of the plant can thrive. Survival of the fittest cannot stand when a single strong individual strikes out to protect the weak.”

Aline said, “Your boss is trying to create an empire and Carapace is getting in the way of that.”

Stratagem laughed. It was an ugly sound. A sound Aline had heard before and recognized, even filtered through the villain’s mask.

“Sit down and take your notes, little reporter girl.”

“Do as she says, Aline.”

Every head in the room turned toward the new voice. Carapace was standing on the teller station, her coat open and pushed back so she could have access to the items hanging from her belt. Aline smiled as she backed away from the villain and crouched behind the wall again. Carapace hopped down, her thrusters releasing a small puff of air to cushion her landing. 

“You came in through the back door?” Stratagem asked. “Afraid to face me head-on?”

“The police were evacuating the street. They’re not happy. Mordecai Stringer will have to grease a lot of wheels to make up for everything you’ve done. And I imagine even your employer will frown on the amount of collateral damage you’ve accrued today.”

Stratagem shrugged. “Cost of doing business. And I believe he’ll agree that the ends justify the means. Any debts will be worth having you gone from the city.”

“What did you tell Miss Whyte your name was? Stratagem?”

Aline considered shouting the woman’s real name, but she couldn’t help thinking it would be a better tactical tool at some point in the future. If Stratagem didn’t know her identity was compromised it might be easier for Carapace to track her down later on. She retreated back to Lisbet and took her hand, squeezing it tightly as they cowered on the floor.

“My name isn’t important,” Stratagem said. “I’m just a messenger. And I’m here to tell you that your interference in the affairs of this city has come to an end.”

“As long as people like Mordecai--”

Whatever retort Carapace had in mind was cut off by a blast from Stratagem’s right arm. The projectile was a disc that flattened upon hitting Carapace’s breastplate, the force of impact throwing her back against the wall as bolts of energy spread out from the object and wrapped Carapace in a web. When the electricity faded, Carapace slumped against the wall and moved her hands helplessly against the object now clinging to her breastplate like some sort of hardened barnacle. 

Stratagem strode forward and casually slapped Carapace’s hands away. She shifted her weight to her back foot and threw a punch that was so hard Carapace hit the ground in a graceless sprawl. One lens of her mask was cracked, the brass setting dented so badly that Aline feared it would pop loose. Stratagem hooked her fingers under the back of Carapace’s mask and lifted it, forcing her to stand or be unmasked.

“Your champion!” Stratagem bellowed. She let go of Carapace, turned, and drove one armored fist into Carapace’s stomach. The breastplate caved in so much that Aline doubted Carapace would be able to draw a full breath.

Lisbet clawed at Aline’s coat. “She’s going to kill her!”

Aline’s face was hot, her breath coming at an alarmingly slow rate as she remembered an item in her billfold. She fished out the light-ups Carapace had given her on their first official meeting and spilled them into her hand. There were six of them, six small distraction tools of unknown power. She looked up and saw Carapace curled in the fetal position against the wall. Stratagem was sizing her up, apparently looking for the next place to hurt her. Aline looked at Lisbet, who seemed to read her intentions and began shaking her head.

“Don’t,” she whispered.

Aline cupped Lisbet’s cheek. She began running before she was fully upright, the light-ups clutching in her right hand. She kicked a chair that had fallen over during Stratagem’s grand entrance and the supervillain turned just as Aline slammed into her. They fell in a tangle of arms and legs, with Stratagem trying to angle her right arm up to fire her rifles. Aline bared her teeth and moved her right hand to the barrel. She squeezed until she heard a crack, then uncurled her fingers and let the devices tumble into the weapon.

She pulled back as the first array of sparks flew out of the weapon. Stratagem was too startled to react at first, forgetting about her other three weapons as the fourth exploded in a mess of shrapnel. Aline shrieked and jumped out of the way, while Stratagem howled in pain. Apparently part of the explosion had been directed inward toward her flesh. Aline couldn’t bring herself to be too distraught over the woman’s pain.

Stratagem kicked Aline away and got to her feet, stumbling toward the exit in a drunken sway, her right arm hanging limp by her side as the sabotaged weapon smoldered. Once she was outside she used the guns mounted on her left arm to get past the blockade erected by the police. Aline checked to make sure no one had been hurt by the shrapnel, her concern mostly fixated on Lisbet who gave her a thumbs up and a weak smile.

Aline knelt next to Carapace. “Are you all right?”

“Can’t move,” Carapace whispered. There was a smear of something on her mask, and it took Aline a moment to understand it was blood seeping through from the other side. 

“God. We gotta get this mask off...”

Carapace grabbed her wrist. “No.”

Aline pulled her hand back. “This isn’t a time to worry about your identity. I’m just worried about your face.”

“Isaiah.”

“I don’t... I-I can’t...”

Carapace said, “Take me to him. Please.”

Aline looked at Lisbet and motioned her over. When she arrived, Aline said, “Get under her left arm. Help me lift her.”

“What are you doing?”

“We’re taking her home.”

#

At the time Aline had been disappointed all her research into the location of Isaiah McKeon’s lab was for naught, but now she was grateful she’d sought it out. She and Lisbet struggled under the weight of Carapace’s armor as they dragged her out of the bank. The police who had been cowed by Stratagem’s exit surged forward with their weapons out.

“Ladies, you can just put her down right there. That is a dangerous fugitive...”

Aline said, “We’re going to get her help.”

“She was involved in this robbery. We’ll have a doctor look at her, but we’re going to have to take her into custody.”

“The hell you will.” Aline nodded toward the street, and Lisbet shuffled in that direction.

An officer moved to block their way. “Ladies...”

Lisbet spoke before Aline could, rising up and raising her voice for the first time in Aline’s memory. “Oh, now? Now you’re going to stand up, now you’re going to do your damn jobs? You finally take a stand to protect this city and you choose to prevent the woman who has been keeping us safe from getting to a hospital. A fine show of gratitude! If you have a lick of sense in your head, you’ll step aside and let us get this woman to a doctor before she expires.”

The copper actually shrunk under the brunt of her assault, and he stepped aside when she made to move forward. A car had been stalled on the corner when Stratagem began her attack. The driver looked reluctant to get involved but Aline gave him little choice. She opened the back door and hauled Carapace up into the backseat. Then she looked at the driver.

“You got loved ones in this city? You want ‘em to be safe?”

He nodded, terrified and confused.

“Then it would be in your best interest to get this woman home. Got it?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He looked at the police and then put them out of his mind. “You just tell me where we’re going.”

Aline told him a street near the intersection she hoped Isaiah’s lab was hidden. The engine chugged as he turned it, and Aline joined Lisbet in the backseat with their patient. Carapace was limp but conscious, her head lolling in Lisbet’s lap. 

“Sorry,” Lisbet whispered. “I hate that you saw me being so ugly.”

“Ugly? Sweetheart, it was quite the stirring display. Under other circumstances I might have been too distracted to function.”

The driver glanced back at them before focusing on the road again. Aline took Carapace’s hand and looked into the wide bug-eyes of her mask. The glass of one was cracked but still in its frame. She couldn’t help but worry about a shard falling free and perhaps blinding the heroine. The dark stain of blood across the bottom of her mask had spread and there were now tributaries dripping down the smooth skin of her neck.

“How... how do you know...” Carapace coughed, then choked on her words. She coughed violently, prompting Aline to ease her back down.

“I was kind of looking for him a while back. Hush now. Save your strength.”

They rode through town, away from the destruction of the bank, and Aline tried to remember all the details she’d sussed out from the records. When she thought they were about a block away, she told the driver to stop the car so they could get out.

“Are you sure?” he asked. “There ain’t anything around here at all.”

“Not now. But hopefully there used to be.”

Lisbet helped get Carapace out of the car and with Aline managed to half-drag her into an alley between two buildings. The car rattled away, leaving them alone with Carapace. They lowered her to the ground and propped her up against the wall.

Aline crouched in front of her. “Still with us? You’re going to have to help us here. I don’t think we have the time to go around knocking on every door, so we need to know which building.”

Carapace’s head rolled slightly, and Aline feared she had passed out. She lifted her arm and pointed weakly. “Red-brick, arched entryway. Stone front steps... crumbling cornice.” Lisbet got up and peered out into the street. After a second she gave the thumbs-up.

“We see it. How do we get in?”

Carapace fished in her belt and withdrew a long slender key. “Alley entrance. Goes down. Way down.” She sagged forward and knocked her head on Aline’s shoulder. “I’m hurt pretty bad, Aline.”

“It’s okay. We’ll get you somewhere safe. No worries at all. Come on.” She lifted and fought back a grunt of pain as she took Carapace’s weight. Lisbet came back to help her.

“Street’s totally empty. I saw the building three doors to the north of here, just off the corner.”

Slowly but surely the three of them shuffled along. Carapace nearly fell a few times but managed to remain upright. When they finally reached the alley, Lisbet volunteered to hold the masked woman up as Aline worked the key. She got the door open, peered inside to get the lay of the land. A short flight of stairs led down about ten or fifteen feet into a small cavernous antechamber. 

“Down,” Carapace said. “Down, to the right. About... fifty yards. Isaiah should be nearby.”

“All right. Down we go.”

They awkwardly descended, with Aline going first to guide Carapace down. Lisbet hooked her hands under Carapace’s arms and let her lean against her as they came down together. Eventually they reached the bottom of the steps and ventured into the darkness of the tunnel branching out to their right. Carapace shot out one hand against the wall, bracing herself before she lifted her head.

“There’s a switch... about shoulder-height. Flip it up.”

Aline ran her hand along the wall until she found what she was talking about. There was a bit of resistance on the device but she managed to get it into an upward position. She yelped in surprise as a spark leapt out, but it was following a cord that was secured to the wall. It streaked up almost faster than Aline could follow with her eyes. It passed by a series of bell-shaped fixtures, and the spark erupted something inside of them. The burning filament created a steady glow and filled the tunnel with enough light for them to see. Carapace nodded that they could continue on.

They had barely gotten ten yards when they heard a heavy door being moved further down the corridor. “Back already? I thought you were going straight to work from--”

“Mr. McKeon!” Aline shouted. 

He stepped into the tunnel and froze, taking in the situation before he ran to them. “Great Scott! What in the world happened?”

“Someone who works for Stringer got a suit of her own. It packed a helluva whollop.”

“So it would seem. Let me help you.”

He took Lisbet’s side and, with his height, pulled Carapace up off Aline’s shoulder. She started to protest but he insisted that he could handle her. He walked her inside and, after a moment of debate, Aline put her arm around Lisbet’s waist and guided her in as well. She didn’t plan to go home and wait around for word about whether or not Carapace had survived. She’d gone this far and nothing could make her turn back now.


	16. Chapter 16

Lisbet fell asleep on Aline’s shoulder while they waited for Isaiah to finish tending Carapace’s wounds. He had taken her into a side room to work on her. Aline stroked her partner’s hair and tried not to think about how close they’d both come to dying. She had thrown herself at a heavily-armored person who was definitely willing to kill. And Lisbet had wisely remained behind cover, but if a piece of shrapnel or a ricochet had angled itself just right...

She squeezed Lisbet’s arm. “Hey. Wake up.”

“Is there news?”

“No. I just wanted to make sure you were still here.” Lisbet lifted her head, and Aline kissed her. “Everything that just happened is catching up to me. I’m realizing how easy it would have been to lose you. I wanted to hear your voice to reassure myself it hadn’t happened.”

Lisbet stroked Aline’s cheek with the back of her hand. “You’re the one who jumped on a crazy lady and blew up her hand. You big brave stupid lady.”

“But I’m your big brave stupid lady.”

Lisbet smiled. “Yes.”

Isaiah returned at that moment, and Aline took Lisbet’s hand. “How is she?”

“She’s... hurt,” Isaiah said unnecessarily. “She’s been hurt before, of course. But nothing this bad. I’m the most concerned about her two broken ribs but she has a litany of other injuries. She’ll heal, given time. I would like her to get some rest, but she’s asked to speak with you, Aline, before she lets me sedate her. So if you could make it short...?”

“Sure.” She kissed Lisbet’s hand and stood up. Isaiah led her into the room he’d turned into a triage unit. 

Carapace was sitting up on a wooden table, her breastplate gone to reveal a bloodstained dress shirt under a common vest. Her jacket had been tossed carelessly over the back of a nearby chair, and her various devices were lined up on the edge of a desk. Without her accoutrements she looked so human, so ordinary, that Aline wondered how she’d ever been able to survive as a superhero for as long as she had. Her mask was also missing, but her identity was protected by a towel draped over her head.

Isaiah scoffed when he saw the towel. “Is that really necessary? You’re being childish.”

“It’s for their protection.” Carapace kept her unmodified voice low and rushed so Aline couldn’t recognize it even if she’d heard it before.

“Protection? Yes, how is that working out for you, Miss Whyte?”

“Isaiah? Go away.”

He sighed. “No more than five minutes. You need your rest.”

Carapace nodded and waved him out. Isaiah left, and Aline stood awkwardly in the brick archway of the room’s entrance. 

“I’m glad you... well, you’re not okay. But that you weren’t hurt worse.”

“Yeah. It could have been a lot worse.” She looked at her hand, flexed the fingers. “Thanks to you. That was an idiotic thing you did, and if I’d been in a position to do so, I would have boxed your ears. But I can’t deny that it saved my life. It would be the height of idiocy to not be grateful for that. Thank you. I’m glad you were there.”

Aline said, “I don’t think it was a coincidence. I think Stringer was following me looking for an opportunity to cause a ruckus. And I recognized who was under the mask.”

Carapace tilted her head. “Oh, really?”

“Sabine Reynaud. She works for Stringer as a... gofer, I guess. I thought she was just his driver, but she also acts like a messenger. I recognized her laugh.”

“Okay. That’s good to know, I suppose. I’d still like to know where Stringer got that kind of tech. But knowing for sure who is behind the mask is a big step forward. Does she know you recognized her?”

Aline shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

Carapace nodded. Aline found herself struggling to think of her by that name when she looked so ordinary, so... broken. She looked at the discarded breastplate, its bottom half now concave from the blow she’d taken. It rested against the corner like a fallen leaf that had been blown there by the wind.

“That must have hurt. The, um, blow to the chest.”

“Yeah.” Carapace chuckled and then wrapped her arm across her torso. “Ow. Shouldn’t laugh like that. But yeah. The whole point of the armor was because I was terrified of being hurt. I didn’t think I’d run up against something like that. I guess I was just naive. So what’s next?”

Aline’s eyes widened. “I don’t... uh. Wh-what...”

“For you,” Carapace said. “I assume you’re going to keep informing on Carapace to Iverson and the man who owns him. What are you going to tell them about today?”

“I hadn’t even considered that.” She furrowed her brow and tried to think. “I suppose I can tell him the truth up to a point. No one saw me and Lisbet carrying you out of the bank.”

“That might not be true. Sabine may have been gone, he could have had people watching the bank to keep an eye on the proceedings. He could know you took me somewhere. He can’t know that you know about this place. He’ll try to entice the information from you, and when you stand firm, he’ll resort to more unsavory methods of persuasion.”

Aline cringed. “What should I tell him?”

“Simple is best. Tell him that I was well enough to get away from you. I got out of the car and you watched me walk away. You have no idea where I went afterward or if I even survived. That should be plausible enough to make them leave you alone.”

“Okay. Is that all? Is there anything else I can do for you?”

Carapace started to shake her head, but then she looked at the counter across the room. “Actually, if you don’t mind, there is one thing. My mask is in that bin. I saw the look on Isaiah’s face when he took it off of me. If you cleaned the blood off for him, I think... I think he would really appreciate having that chore taken off his hands.”

“Sure. I understand. Um, where...”

“Out the door to the right. You’ll find a basin and some water.”

Aline went to the counter and retrieved the mask. The inside of it was coated with so much blood that Aline was almost reluctant to touch it. She didn’t know the extent of Isaiah’s relationship with Carapace - father and daughter, mentor and student - but she could understand why he would be reluctant to take on this particular duty. She pushed down her queasiness and picked up the mask. She was almost out of the room when Carapace spoke again.

“I think you deserve to know what was under that mask.” 

Aline heard the sound of the towel being pulled off and set aside. She kept her head forward and her eyes down. Something told her that if she turned around she would regret it. If she saw who was under the mask, or at least if she saw who it was at this point, she would never have hope in Carapace again. If she saw through the mask and the gadgets to the human woman, Carapace would never again be anything more than that to her.

“I’ll bring this back when I’m finished with it.”

She walked out of the room and followed Carapace’s directions to the washroom.


	17. Chapter 17

Aline held the mask underwater and let the blood soak for a moment before she attacked it with a sponge. Thankfully it came off without much effort and without smearing too much across the leather. She was careful of the broken eyepiece; she felt if she put too much pressure on it the glass would fall out and break. She soaped the bloodied interior of the mask, blotted it dry with a towel, and then turned it over to look at the face. The blood had seeped through and stained the lower quadrant of the mask, most likely leaving a permanent discoloration over Carapace’s mouth. 

She stared into the eyes of the mask for a moment, glanced around, and then slipped the mask over her own head. It was immediately stifling, difficult to breathe, and she resisted the urge to immediately take it off to get air. The glass was foggy from water, one side splintered and almost opaque. Aline looked around the room and tried to imagine seeing the city in this manner. It would be brighter, which would definitely help. She could also understand how it might be easier to wear once she’d had some time to adjust to it. But running around, talking to people, holding conversations? She couldn’t understand how any of that was possible with the mask on.

Lisbet stepped into the doorway and immediately backed up a step before she recognized Aline’s clothes. “Ally? What are you doing?”

She pulled off the mask with a gasp, widening her eyes at the sudden clarity of vision. A thin film of sweat had formed on her forehead in the short time she’d worn the mask. How did Carapace manage being in it for her theatrics? 

“I was just seeing what it was like for her.”

Lisbet came into the room and joined Aline at the basin of water. “You also need the heavy armor for your chest and the devices strapped to your arms and legs.”

“You’re right,” Aline said. “God, how does she even move?”

Lisbet picked up one of Aline’s hands and examined the fingers. There was a bit of blood in her cuticles, and Lisbet picked up the sponge to carefully clean the residue away. Aline allowed her nails to be cleaned, watching intently as Lisbet scrubbed it away. When she was finished her fingers were pink and clean, and she gripped the collar of Lisbet’s shirt.

“Thank you, Lis.”

“You are welcome.”

Isaiah arrived and they took a step apart. He looked at the clean mask next to the basin with what Aline interpreted as relief. His shoulders relaxed ever-so-slightly, and the line of his lips relaxed. 

“She mentioned... I wouldn’t have asked...” He cleared his throat. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” Aline glanced at Lisbet. “I think we’ve done everything we can here. If we stuck around we would just be getting in the way. Besides, if we were here Carapace would have to keep her head covered up. Can’t be very comfortable. So I’ll just...”

Isaiah nodded. “I appreciate all of your help. And I’m sure that if she was in a position to do so, Carapace would say the same thing.”

“After everything she’s done for Seattle, it’s the least we could do to give back. I hope she’s not off her feet for long. The city still needs her.”

He frowned. “You can’t possibly think she’s going back out as Carapace after this.”

Aline said, “No... not until she’s healed. Of course not. But...”

“Stringer just proved how far he is willing to go. Everything else he does, all the horrible crimes he’s involved in, at least he wasn’t killing anyone.”

Lisbet said, “Not directly. But there is certainly a rise in deaths due to the drugs and criminal element he brings in.”

Isaiah snapped, “Well, they weren’t hurting _her_! She didn’t have to stand up and fight. She didn’t have to put her life on the line. She’s just a woman. Why did she have to be the one who sacrificed, who risked her safety for the people of this ungrateful city? Miss Whyte, you have done your part to make her a hero but there are far too many out there who think she is a menace. A vigilante. They believe she is interfering in matters that are better left to the corrupt police.”

Aline said, “You can’t let them win.”

He closed his eyes and shook his head. “You carried that girl in here bloodied, broken, barely conscious, choking on her own blood. I would say Mordecai Stringer has already won. Let’s give him the victory while we’re all still breathing.” 

He turned and left them alone. Aline put her arm around Lisbet and held her close until they were strong enough to make their way back to the surface.

#

They were silent for the ride home, but Lisbet maintained constant contact with Aline the entire way; she clutched her hand as they waited for the streetcar, rested her head on Aline’s shoulder as they rode through the streets, and linked arms with her for the walk back home. Ordinarily Aline would have felt smothered by the attention, but today she wanted the reassurance of Lisbet’s presence. It seemed impossible to believe that it was still the same day. Early afternoon. Word of the bank robbery was likely still making its way through the channels at every paper in town. The people they passed in the street had no idea what had happened or the hero they’d lost.

Aline knew without asking that Lisbet wasn’t going to work with her mother that day. They both needed the afternoon to recover and process what they’d been through. She took her upstairs and, once the apartment door was closed, pulled her close with a whispered, “C’mere.” They kissed slowly at first, easing against each other. Lisbet moved her hands to Aline’s collar and began fussing with the buttons.

“I need to feel you,” Lisbet whispered. “Your skin.”

“Over here.” Aline put her hands on Lisbet’s hips to guide her to the bed. The truth was that she’d been feeling the urge since leaving the bank but she hadn’t wanted to act on it. She needed to feel Lisbet’s skin, hear her heartbeat, taste her. She whimpered as they fell into the bed. Lisbet had gotten her shirt halfway unbuttoned on their trek across the room, and Aline sat up to peel the shirt off. Lisbet put her hand on the curve of Aline’s breast. Aline covered Lisbet’s fingers with her own and watched as she counted the heartbeats.

“Alive, alive, alive,” Lisbet whispered with every thump. “You’re alive.”

“So are you,” Aline said in Danish. She bent down and kissed Lisbet’s lips. Lisbet slipped her hand into Aline’s clothes and cupped her breast. She put her feet on the edge of the mattress, her knees bent on either side of Aline’s body. Aline reached down and pushed off Lisbet’s shoes, then slid her hand up the smooth stockings to the edge of her dress. She pulled back, holding Lisbet’s bottom lip in her teeth before moving down to nuzzle her neck. Lisbet whimpered, hands in Aline’s hair, and wriggled higher onto the bed. Aline moved with her, pushing up Lisbet’s skirt before settling between her thighs. Lisbet reached down and changed the angle so that Aline’s hip was pressing against her.

“There?”

“Yes, _min elskede_...”

Aline moved her hips slowly, one hand in the small of Lisbet’s back while the other stroked her breast through her shirt. Aline could feel the heat of Lisbet’s skin and the pounding of her heart, but more importantly she could feel her own. They had both survived the insanity of the morning, they were both intact. She moved faster, closing her eyes to focus on what she was doing rather than her own pleasure. When she sensed Lisbet was close she forced herself to slow down and distract her by removing another piece of clothing. 

When she peeled off Lisbet’s bra, bowing to take one stiff nipple into her mouth, Lisbet howled and dragged her fingers across Aline’s bare back.

“Please, my love, please...”

Aline wet two fingers and reached between them. She kept her eyes open and watched Lisbet’s face as she stroked the folds of her sex, spreading the moisture before pushing her middle finger inside. Lisbet pressed her head down into the pillows and hunched her shoulders, her entire upper body quaking as Aline pressed the heel of her hand against her clit. Lisbet moved her hands to her face, linking her fingers loosely over her eyes as she tried to control her breathing.

Aline kissed the fingers and used her lips to gently pry them apart so she could see Lisbet’s eyes. She kissed the closed lids and felt the lashes flutter against her lips. When she sat up Lisbet looked at her and smiled sleepily. She cupped Aline’s face, smiling when Aline turned her head to kiss Lisbet’s palm, and then pushed herself up with her other hand. 

“Lie down,” Lisbet said.

Aline smiled. “What?”

“On your back, please.”

In the majority of their time together, Aline had been the one to be on top. She was the aggressor, while Lisbet was more passive. She didn’t mind the roles; she preferred it that way. But the idea of Lisbet taking control... She pushed herself up and stretched out on her side of the bed as Lisbet rearranged herself next to her. She knelt next to Aline’s legs and smiled before she bent down and kissed Aline’s hips. She touched her tongue to the patch of dark hair covering Aline’s mound, inhaling quickly and then kissing to taste the moisture that had been caught in the curls. Aline couldn’t refrain from making a quiet noise of pleasure at the contact.

“You don’t have to...” Aline whispered.

“Sh, sh.” 

Aline moved one of her feet off the bed and pointed the toes of the other, lifting her butt up so Lisbet could get her hand underneath her. Lisbet cupped Aline’s ass, squeezed, and moaned as she used her tongue to spread Aline’s folds. They had only done this a handful of times, and of those times Aline was on the receiving end only twice. She shuddered and stroked Lisbet’s hair back to see her face, watching the pink tip of her tongue as she teased and explored with it. She looked up at Aline to gauge her reaction and Aline smiled, nodded, and closed her eyes. When the flat of Lisbet’s tongue found a particularly sensitive spot, Aline gasped and tightened her grip on Lisbet’s hair.

“Sorry!”

“No, it’s okay.” She turned her head and kissed Aline’s arm. “It’s okay. The pain is like the pleasure.” She kissed Aline’s wrist and bowed her head again. “It reminds me I’m here.”

Aline bit her bottom lip and curled her toes as Lisbet went back to what had been so rudely interrupted. She didn’t know why Lisbet was so reluctant to make love like this; she was phenomenal at it. Her tongue, her lips, the way she used her breath to tease...

She cried out and moved her hand down to Lisbet’s shoulder, lifting her upper body in an attempt to fold in on herself. She shuddered violently, eyes closed, her thighs tight around Lisbet’s head, and Lisbet’s tongue was still hard at work on her. The girl only let up when Aline collapsed back on the mattress breathing heavily and dazed from her climax. Lisbet snaked her way up Aline’s body, licking her stomach, breasts, and neck to taste the sweat gathered there.

“I need to do that more often.”

Aline grinned. “I wouldn’t protest.” She kissed the corner of Lisbet’s eyebrow and settled underneath her, enjoying the weight of her lover. She was moments from sleep when Lisbet lifted her head slightly and then put it back down. “What is it?” Aline asked quietly.

“I was seeing if you were awake.”

“I am.”

“No, you are not. You are a lying sleeping person.”

Aline squeezed Lisbet’s arm and Lisbet giggled. “What did you want to say?”

“I don’t even know. I just... do you think it’s true? Carapace is gone?”

“I don’t know, sweetheart. I hope not. But if she is gone, I hope Stringer takes the win. Without her around he won’t see the need to use Stratagem again. Maybe things will quiet down.”

Lisbet murmured and nodded. “I hope so.”

She kissed Lisbet’s hair. “Go to sleep, _elskede_.”

Lisbet rested her head on Aline’s shoulder. Within minutes her body had relaxed, her breathing slow and even. Aline held her and looked out the window, hoping despite herself that she would see a masked figure in a long coat crouching on the other side of the glass and knowing she wasn’t likely to.


	18. Chapter 18

There was a zeppelin, the _Jade Express_ which carried tourists in a wide circle over Seattle. It took almost three hours from liftoff to landfall, and it traveled an elliptical path that took them out over the city walls for an unimpeded view of the Cascades then out over Puget Sound where they could look over the water. Seven months after Lisbet Dahl entered Aline’s life as a housekeeper, they boarded the _Express_ together in their finest clothes. It was early on a Wednesday and the air was clear, but business was slow due to people being at work, so they had an entire window on the observation deck to themselves.

Carapace hadn’t been spotted in the city since the bank robbery. The newspapers speculated that she died from her injuries. When Mayor Iverson called Aline to his office for an update, he insisted she arrive after business hours. The building was deserted when she arrived; even Cecily’s desk was abandoned. She stood in the waiting room with her hands behind her back and jumped when Iverson opened his office door and stepped out to greet her.

“Where’s your friend?”

“Are we not doing small talk anymore, Mr. Iverson?”

He didn’t smile. “Where is she?”

“You ran her off. She was hurt too badly. She couldn’t be Carapace right now if she wanted to, but she doesn’t want to. You won. She’s gone.”

“How can I be sure about that?”

Aline shrugged. “If she was still around, I would have told her I was coming here alone to meet with you. She would have told me it was dangerous but I would have come anyway. So she would come up with a plan. I distract you out here while she sneaks into your office through the window to take you out from behind.”

Iverson turned to look into his office. It was empty. When he looked back at her, Aline had drawn a long-barreled pistol from her coat pocket and aimed it at his chest. He froze and stared down the barrel with his hands held out to his sides.

“Things go back to normal. No more Carapace, no reason for you to even know who I am. We’re through. I go back to my life and you go back to yours.”

“I still want to know who Carapace was. She’s still out there, she’s just not wearing the mask anymore.”

“She’s just another one of your victims, Quinlan. You defeated her. You beat me.” She moved the gun off him and relaxed her stance. “The age of Carapace is over. Tell Stringer he doesn’t need Stratagem anymore. No more innocent people need to be hurt in this stupid battle.”

“You expect me to believe she’ll just walk away? You expect me to convince Stringer that’s the case? He’ll never believe it. He wants Carapace’s head on a pike.”

Aline shrugged. “He’ll be disappointed. Happens to all of us in this life.” She put the gun in her pocket. “You don’t need me anymore. There’s no information to be given on Carapace. But I’m keeping the money you gave me. It wasn’t a salary, it was the purchasing rights to my soul. I can’t get back what I lost, so I’ll keep the cash.”

His eyebrow ticked and he shrugged slightly. Aline took it as acceptance of her offer.

“I’m going to walk out of here now. And with any luck, I’m never going to see you again.”

Iverson spoke to her back as she walked away. “You can’t really believe this is over.”

“I can believe a multitude of things, Mr. Iverson.” She took the stairs rather than waiting for the elevator, walking out of the building and all the way back home.

That had been a few days after Carapace was struck down. In the weeks since, Aline had gone back to her regular job at the newspaper. She went out on standard assignments - fires, burglaries, spoke to the police about an investigation - but she kept her eyes peeled for Carapace wherever she went. She had been worried about resuming her duties at the _Clarion_ considering Eli had hired Lisbet to fill pages Aline’s departure would have left blank. But Elizabeth Hall turned out to be quite a hit with their subscribers. He kept her on, but he moved her column back a few pages. Lisbet was excited and grateful for the opportunity, and even relieved that she wouldn’t have the responsibility of knowing every eye in the city would look at her name on the front page.

When the zeppelin lifted off, Aline took a slip of silk ribbon from her pocket. They rested their hands together on the railing, and Aline looped the ribbon around her wrist, then Lisbet’s. They tightened it together, bumping shoulders as they looked out at the buildings that were quickly shrinking away. The fingers of their linked hands intertwined, and they leaned gently against each other as they looked down at their city.

The day after Carapace was injured, Aline was downstairs getting the mail when she spotted Ginny feeding one of the stray cats in the alley. The girl had crouched to put down a saucer of milk and, when she stood up, she winced and put a hand against her side. She smiled sheepishly when she saw Aline watching her. She flattened her palm and pretended she was smoothing out a wrinkle. 

“Are you okay?” Aline asked.

“Yeah. Mama just wanted me to move some boxes and I didn’t think they were so heavy.”

Aline nodded. “Well... take it easy if you can.”

Ginny nodded her thanks and continued upstairs. Aline watched her go. Ginny was much too slender, and at least three inches too short even taking the boots into account, but the injury had given her pause. It made her think for however briefly that Ginny was the face behind Carapace’s mask. If she went to work and saw Finn standing too stiffly, or if Cecily was too slow to stand up the next time Aline went to the mayor’s office for a scoop, or if a woman she vaguely recognized on the streetcar was suddenly gone, would she think they were all really Carapace’s secret identity? She couldn’t live that way.

She decided to wait a week. She called it a vacation and spent the time in the apartment writing or helping Lisbet with her writing, although she wasn’t being much help these days. She joked that soon she’d be asking Lisbet for help rather than vice versa, but it wasn’t far from the truth. She kept her accent when she spoke but there was no trace of her first language when she wrote. She started going by Elizabeth rather than explaining to people about her pen name, and most people she introduced herself to heard her name was Elizabeth anyway. Soon she was Elizabeth in public and Lisbet only when she and Aline were being intimate. 

The zeppelin carried them over the water and Aline put her lips next to Elizabeth’s ear. She whispered slowly and clearly. Elizabeth closed her eyes and a smile grew across her face, her cheeks pinkening as she listened. Her hand tightened around Aline’s and, when she finished speaking, she brought her unbound hand up to wipe the moisture from her lashes. They kissed each other on the cheek so as not to scandalize the handful of other passengers and then watched as the harbor grew larger ahead of them. 

Once they were back over land, Elizabeth leaned in and began whispering in Aline’s ear. She said many wonderful, profound things; things Aline would have sworn no one would ever say to her. When Elizabeth began to pull away Aline grabbed the lapel of her coat and held her close.

“Thank you.”

Elizabeth smiled and nodded. They faced forward and watched the city slowly roll by underneath them, in front of them, all around them.

An hour later the ship slowed down to dock. Aline untied the ribbon so they wouldn’t have to explain its presence and she tucked it into Elizabeth’s pocket. They linked arms and walked off the ship together. They were the first ones back on the ground, but they didn’t linger. Once they were out of the station Elizabeth started running. Aline laughed and put a hand on top of her head to hold her hat in place as she tried to keep up.

They went to the county clerk’s office where their petition had been accepted a few days earlier. They just had a few more items to fill out before it was official. They couldn’t get married; that was a pipe dream for two women even in the city of the future. But there were other steps they could take that would cement their devotion to one another. The airship tour was a way for them to look out over the city they would share for the rest of their lives; the words they’d spoken while bound together would hold them together as one. And now, the final step was almost done.

They signed official notices and showed the documents that were required. When they left the courthouse they left their old identities behind. Aline Whyte and Lisbet Dahl were officially in the past. From that day forward they would be Aline and Elizabeth Whitehall. 

Aline’s though of discarding one identity for another made her think of Carapace. It almost seemed impossible to think that the city had been host to its own superhero after she’d been gone for so long. The city seemed to have forgotten as well. Mayor Iverson and Mordecai Stringer continued their shady business practices but Stratagem was nowhere to be found. It seemed as if she had vanished into the same hole as Carapace. She hoped that one day Carapace would return. She hoped her absence was only a brief hiatus from which she would victoriously emerge to take down Stringer and his goons once and for all. It was just too painful to believe that she would slink away defeated.

“Ally.” Elizabeth shook her arm, and Aline realized she had stopped walking in the middle of the sidewalk to look up at the sky. Elizabeth smiled knowingly. “Looking for your savior?”

Aline threw an arm around the woman who, in a more perfect world, she could have called her wife. “Well that would be silly,” Aline said. “What would you be doing up in the sky?”

Elizabeth smiled and nuzzled against Aline’s side as they continued walking. She had no idea what the future held but she had little doubt she could face it with Elizabeth at her side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if this is the end of the story, or just "Part One" of the novel. I didn't expect this to happen! The story took me here and I looked around and said, "Wait, what?" But there's definitely more story to be told. We'll just have to see how that story plays out, whether in a sequel or a continuation of this story.


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